


Pull me out of the deep end

by Addy01



Series: Pull [1]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Depression, M/M, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, any action would be in the next part, attempted suicide, heartbroken, it's there if you squint, or would it have been accidental death, pre-kaishin, questioning identity, subtle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10596315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Addy01/pseuds/Addy01
Summary: Sometimes it takes someone special to help you see the rainbow after the storm. For Edogawa Conan, who could never be Kudo Shinichi ever again, the one to help him see that rainbow was Kaitou KID. Warning: mentions of attempted suicide.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I keep going back and forth with this, but I decided that due to the pacing, it’s better for me to post this first part as a separate section. So here you go, the fic that I have been pulling my hair out for the past six months.
> 
> Many thanks to Taliya with the Beta-ing! Without her, this fic won't have made any sense...

Smoke. Burnt. Charred. The stench of melted human flesh—

Conan was instantly overwhelmed by the horrifying smell as he swung open the door of the moving van he had been on, before it screeched to a complete stop. He could barely hold back the gag reflex that threatened to empty his stomach as he forcefully pushed away the— _Horror! Panic! Fear!_ —and continued to dash towards the building…

… or what was left of the building after the inferno that had engulfed it earlier had died down.

Thinning streams of smoke rose away from the site as a gust of wind blew—the fire from the explosion had finally been put out not too long ago. What was left of the structure could barely support itself, with more than half of the building having collapsed into the mountain of rubble where rescuers were still digging through with shovels; huge clamps on cranes lifted the heavier, bulkier pieces to the side. Large portions of the broken concrete slabs were scorched black, the melted, bent steel beams testament to the ferocity of the flames that had devoured the building just hours earlier.

The right wing of the building that had hosted the pharmaceutical department, where they had started the infiltration operation from, had completely caved in. Nothing indicated its prior existence other than the piles of rubble that had been neatly set aside from earlier rescue attempts.

It had been hours since the explosion had occurred and the fire had roared into life… since the rescue efforts had started. Logically, Conan knew that no one could have survived the unexpected explosion, the menacing fire, and collapsing concrete.

But still, he held on to hope…

He paid no heed to the voices—the shriek from Jodie-sensei pleading for him to come back, the grip that he had managed to wiggle out of: strong yet lax—had that been Andre?—the grip that failed to drag him back into the vehicle.

Maybe he should have let them, because _nothing_ could have prepared him for it.

Nothing at all.

It had left him blindsided when he had finally caught sight of the rigid— _unmoving, ever again! No!_ —figures on the ground. All of them mutilated beyond recognition, lined up and out in the open, waiting to be packed into bags to be carted off to the morgue.

He had only recognised them from the tattered uniforms that had barely held together, the bullet proof vests that had holes mostly from chemical burns—concentrated hydrochloric acid—splattered across the fabric, shrapnel of broken pieces of glass and metal stuck out, protruding deep from the skin. Their skin... their skin... All with the same melted—

And he emptied his stomach—contaminating the crime scene, his mind helpfully supplied—heaving and coughing until every last drop of it came out.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at them anymore.

It was his fault... It had been his plans that got those good—dead—men into this mess in the first place.

Conan, together with the FBI, PSB, and all the other agencies around the globe had conducted a discreet, world-wide take down of the Black Organisation permanently. The pharmaceutical company was supposed to be one of the easier locations to raid. So far, they had managed to secure their bases without much bloodshed, always managing to stop Them unawares, and hence, unable to enact any of their backup plans.

Unfortunately, it was not meant to be this time. And it was supposed to be a simple operation.

The teams had had with them small cameras and microphones to allow for coordination. Everything had been going smoothly; they had disabled the camera and the security system, and had secured the civilians in the lower floors that were opened to the public.

There had been a panicked cry, followed by the static grey and white fuzz on all the screens before the video feeds to the operation had been suddenly cut off. The whole crew had descended into a whirlwind of panic and he himself into full-blown shock.

He had felt his heart sink to the bottom when the news had come a minute later that there had been an explosion.

It seemed they had not been so lucky as to catch the Black Organisation off guard this time.

It was hours later when they had been given the all clear to visit ground zero, and only after the blaze had subsided and the area mostly cleared.

It had been too late by then... only to find his worst fears had been founded.

A hazy fog shrouded his mind as he barely registered being led away by the arm—this time the grip was strong and firm; he would not be able to escape from Andre even if he tried—and back to the van. His gaze didn’t leave the sight of the unnaturally still bodies until the van door closed on him, blocking his view.

If he had been there, he could have noticed something. He could have warned them. He could have saved them.

He should have foreseen this.

He had insisted on being personally involved in the operation in order to shut down the Black Organisation after they had arrested the one they called “Ano Kata”, along with the higher ups. With them out of contact, the Organisation had fallen into disarray. They had thought that it should be safer now.

James Black had put his faith on him. Akai Shuichi had vouched for him. The men hadn’t even blinked an eye at being instructed by a man physically ten years younger than he actually was.

And this was how he repaid them for their faith in him.

They had lost men before to this long, drawn-out war, but never this many in one fell swoop.

Never, until he had come along.

Nothing would ever make him able to forget this day.

It was, after all, entirely his fault.

-o-

It’s a funny thing, to be attending your own funeral when you were still technically alive.

But here he was, dressed in all black, as Edogawa Conan—and physically twelve when he should have been twenty two—under the guise of Edogawa Conan to pay his final respects to his ‘Shinichi-niisan’.

(Technically it was only memorial, since the ‘body’ was supposedly never found.)

He did not deserve it at all, not the facade of a hero’s farewell that they insisted on staging, even if it was only an act to tie all the administrative loose ends.

James Black was at the front fiddling with the papers, just a space in front of the two rows of chairs that had been haphazardly arranged just that morning. Behind them was the media circus, with the cameramen doing their last minutes checks and reporters reading their scripts—even if Kudo Shinichi was old news, it was still something the newspapers and media were going to snap up—just another day in the field. In a few minutes, the FBI agent was going to be giving his eulogy of a young man’s contribution to make this world a much better place.

What a farce...

The doors to the Kudo Mansion were opened for the first time in years. Dust still lingered in the air from the rushed cleaning job. Plastic furniture coverings had been hurriedly tucked behind the door that was ajar in one of the spare rooms, just in time before the first wave of people came to pay their respects.

All of this contributed to the heavy feeling of a house long abandoned, lending to the fact that it had been a very, very long time since Kudo Shinichi had last stepped foot into the house—

—since he’d actually walked this earth as Kudo Shinichi.

The fact that he could never, ever be Kudo Shinichi again hadn’t sunk in until he had stepped back to his childhood home, highlighting all that he had lost. With no schemes or plans and the dangers of the Black Organisation a thing of the past, he had no choice but to deal with the emotional, immeasurable loss that crashed upon him like a tsunami.

Every step he took, every time his eyes scanned across the empty room while bringing out the chairs, every single moment in that house continued to draw forth uncontrollable shivers, as though a rusted fishing hook had been dug deep into his heart, tugging and inflicting piercing, electrifying pain throughout his whole body.

Five years too late, from the time he was shrunk until Black Organisation had finally been destroyed, dismantled, and dusted.

Five years too late, as he watched his former life slowly disintegrate, and there had been nothing he could do about it.

Five years too late, to take up the name Kudo Shinichi again.

Logically, this was the best outcome for him, being able to start anew as Edogawa Conan. Kudo Shinichi’s life was already in ruins anyway. He had missed his graduation, with no chance to enter any university without a high school diploma… He had missed far too many milestones to ever be able to seamlessly insert himself back into society like he had initially planned.

Too many questions would have followed that no one could answer. Too many dangerous loose ends would have been created. Too many temptations for the remnant agents that evaded capture to come back for revenge—

“Conan-kun?” Startled out of his musing, he turned around to look at the worst reminder of his failures. Oh, that sweet melodies voice.

“Oh… Ran-neechan... You came?”

He had been living between the Kudo Mansion and the police station for the last couple of weeks as the had dust settled, tying up loose ends. This laughable ‘memorial’ had been a last minute concoction between the PBS and his parents. It had been put together as an afterthought while they had been putting the paperwork together to cement Edogawa Conan’s identity as a legal, law-abiding citizen.

If he had had a choice, he wouldn’t have wanted her to be here. He wouldn’t have even told her about it. Unfortunately, his parents were in charge of the task of the inviting ‘guests’, and it would have been too out of place to exclude her from this farce.

He had hoped that after five years, she would finally be able to put him behind and move on with her life when he had finally cut off all contact with her three years ago. But her bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face dashed all of his hopes.

Even with all the anger, guilt, and regret he had tumbling within him, it could never compare to the guilt of what he had put Ran through all these years. All the pain and sacrifice, and he could not even tell Ran about it like he had promised himself to when it was over.

Not even to say one last good bye.

Even after all these years, he was still hurting her. That was all he had ever done to her.

Shinichi—No! He had to remember that he was Conan now, he was never going to be Shinichi anymore—Conan could not stand being so close her without feeling as though he’d been stabbed in the heart.

Not that he did not deserve it, especially since he was the cause her tears yet again.

(Useless. A total screw-up. Just a waste of space. Can’t do anything right. He, he…)

“Co-Conan-kun?”

“Oh yes, t-they are about to start, just… head down to the lounge. You better get there right now.”

“Okay, how about you...?”

“I’ll just be here, helping Yukiko-neechan.”

“Okay... okay.” Far too absorbed in her own shock to notice his stutter and uncharacteristic sadness—after all, Edogawa Conan had only been seven when he had last seen his cousin. Realistically, he should not have been able to form a bond so deep as to be so depressed by his cousin’s death—she bee lined to the room as instructed. And with that, like every other time, he could feel himself being left behind once again as he watched her silhouette disappeared into the room…

It was with reluctance that he tore his gaze away—long after Ran had disappeared from sight—when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He looked up and saw his—no, Kudo Shinichi’s mother—standing behind him.

With one look at his face, she ushered him into an empty room without a word. Once he could hear the door clicking shut, he sucked in a long inhale, stopping himself just in time before any tears could escape, choking on the overwhelming pain that should have had no impact on him physically.

No, he could not cry. He did not deserve to. He had done so much wrong. He had made so many mistakes.

Everyone had said that he lucked out, being given a once in a lifetime opportunity to be able to start a new life in a clean slate.

But why did he feel like he had only gotten the short end of the stick?

-o-

“ _Edogawa-kun.”_

“ _Akai-san. Any news?”_

“ _Everything in the building was burnt to ashes. And there’s there nothing in the cloud on the information you’re requesting.”_

“ _Nothing? Not even a hint or—”_

“ _Nothing. Whatever project Sherry was working on, it seems that they put a stop to it when she left. We can’t even find any traces of anyone else even assigned to that project.”_

“ _...”_

“ _I am sorry, Edogawa-kun.”_

-o-

It was hard, so hard, to shrug everything off and get on with his life as it nothing life-changing, devastating, toe curling, had happened. Even if it was his life—Kudo Shinichi’s life—that had been taken away from him right before his very eyes.

To the world, he was just a twelve-year-old elementary school kid with an eidetic memory, an intelligent young growing boy with superb observations skills who had proven his usefulness to the law enforcement, who had four great friends to help him solve real crimes with. He had the support of the great ‘Sleeping Kogoro’, and had connections with many departments within the police force.

But all Shini— _No!_ , _Conan! He was Conan now_ —all he could feel was the lethargy of putting on his mask everyday.

The float that had he had been clinging onto in order to keep himself afloat all this years—the hope that he would be able to go back to being Kudo Shincihi—had been snatched away from him. He had fallen into the deep end and was drowning, being pulled beneath the surface into the depths of the sea with the weight of all of the expectations and lies and his mistakes, barely able to catch a breath as it sunk him further and further.

Nothing could save him anymore. And there was nothing he could do about it...

“You’re getting the kids down with your mood,” Haibara hissed under her breath as she gave him a hard nudge in the ribs, abruptly bringing him out of his inner turmoil.

He gave a slight jerk, gone unnoticed from anyone else except his companion. He could feel his heart clench, ever so slightly, when he realised, yet again, how this nightmare was just the beginning for him—

_No! Stop thinking about it!_

“Oh, really? Is it another thing that ‘Edogawa Conan’ should be caring about?” He took a bite out of his bento, but all he could taste from the food was cardboard, like everything else that he had eaten. It took all he could to be as indifferent as possible, no point crying over split milk, not in front of this crowd where he would be grasping at straws to explain himself...

Despite his dismissive tone, he took a peek at the kids, and true enough, in between their own conversations, they all took turns taking a glance at him, checking in on him. _Maybe he was wrong about them not noticing his flinching earlier._ Worry was evident in their eyes, understanding, but not truly empathising with why he was so sad about the death of a man whom he hardly knew.

The kids were usually more subtle than this, something that they had evidently picked up after years of hanging out with a corpse magnet all the time. _For them to be so blatant at it..._ His heart clenched at the thought… _they would have been better of not worrying about me, not even knowing about me the in the first place—_

“Well yes. Since you don’t have any other choice.” Though her glare was not at full force today, he noticed belatedly—as if she was hovering between being exasperated at his funk and sympathetic about his struggles. She knew what it was like to be stuck in a body ten years younger than it should have been—she was just like he was—but... she didn’t, couldn’t fully empathise with him…

Not when being Haibara Ai was the best thing that could have happened to her.

“Yeah... yeah, I don’t. Don’t I?” and went on to plaster his mask of cheerfulness and inquisitiveness that had become Conan’s trademark.

He could just barely see the relief that exuded from the kids as he started giving his input in whatever topic they were discussing, though it barely registered in his psych.

Even though he should, he couldn’t bring his heart to really, really care about anyone’s worries anymore.

Even if he felt a little more of him being chipped awayeach day by this very existence.

But, just like Haibara said, he had no other choice.

He was Edogawa Conan now— and being Edogawa Conan meant living in this horrible, gut-wrenching mistake for the rest of eternity.

-o-

He took a much longer time to reach home from school, taking the long route home to try to shake off the heaviness in his heart.

Home was still the Mouri Detective Agency. After five years of living there, it had become inevitable that it felt more like home than the Kudo mansion had ever been.

The weather did not help matters. The unforgiving winter had taken a sudden turn to where the chill blew against him as he made his slow struggle back to the apartment, piercing cold, sharp, edges that sliced against his dry skin. The wind continued to howl, encouraging the raging dark clouds above to threaten a downpour at any given moment. Nothing could resist the relentless cold that weighed the whole populace down to the point where no one ventured out of his or her home unless it was strictly necessary.

(But that was why he had decided to take the detour, if only so he could pretend, for the next half an hour, that the shortness of breath, the itch under his skin, the never ending shivers, were all caused by the weather and had nothing to do with the physical manifestation of his mental state of mind.)

It would not surprise him that school will close in a couple of days, what with the way the weather had been threatening something worse to come. Probably meant that soon, he would have nothing to distract him from wallowing in his self-pity and—

Conan shook his head to clear his depressing thoughts, determined to keep his mood light. He should be done moping about. He should have come to terms being Edogawa Conan by now. It’s been over five years, and he had much more to live for right now than ever before.

However, it still sounded empty to his ears, every time he repeated it to himself these past few weeks. Maybe if he repeated it often enough, he could find it himself to really believe in that sentence.

Maybe.

It had been a couple of weeks since the memorial. Ran had opted to stay at the Agency, especially since the winter break had started for her. It had been an agonising two weeks with her around, a throwback to a time when he had still held onto the false hope that things would resolve in a happy ending for him. As much as her presence pained him, he chose to stick around. Her presence was like a drug, even after all this years.

For the umpteenth time, his parents had offered to ‘take’ Edogawa Conan back home. There was no reason for him to stick around anymore. The initial reason for staying in the agency had long become moot. Kogoro-occhan probably still considered him a freeloader even though their relationship had improved over the past few years, particularly since Ran had headed to university and they now only had each other to rely on. After all that upheaval, he had wanted the familiarity of home to decompress and re-aligned himself before he made his next move. Perhaps it would be better to get out of the man’s hair, especially since Kogoro-occhan had proven to be—

Shinichi stopped short as he came to the door of the agency. He could feel a lump instantly sticking in his throat, his mind ceasing on its tracks, his body following suit. He couldn’t breathe, no matter how hard he tried to inhale as he stood frozen in front of the half ajar door.

The sight of Ran—with tears on her face that were still flowing down her chin, her lips closing in on Hondou Eisuke’s lips, her hands gripping on his sweater for support—

He could not bring himself to look away as their lips touched. His whole body was petrified by the sight.

This… this wasn’t what was supposed to greet him when he reached the Agency. It was the last thing he had expected.

He was not ready yet… never would be ready for this.

No matter how many times he had told himself that he had to let her go, that she had to move on, that he should not be holding her back, it did nothing to prepare him for the way the life was being squeezed from his heart, the way the air in his lungs burnt, the way he could no longer control the shakes, no longer able to contain the shivers down his spine. Thousands of needles pierced through his heart as it finally struck home exactly _what_ he had lost. An invisible pressure constricted in his chest, weighing him down, down, down until he was crushed to dust...

And just like that, his whole world that he had been barely able to hold onto, collapsed on him all over again.

-o-

“What’s wrong, Conan-kun?”

He looked up from the sofa, where he had been since she had left for dinner with Hondou earlier, and there she was, standing by the entrance of the Agency having just come back in her lovely coral cocktail dress that shimmered when she moved, accentuating her curves. Wearing minimal but artistically applied make-up that served to only highly her natural beauty, she appeared in front of him like an angel from the sky. It did not help that the dim glow from the streetlight below shone through the Agency’s windows and gently illuminated her, giving a soft glow to her skin.

He briefly wondered how many people on earth possessed such a physical manifestation of their mistakes, reminding them so efficiently and so cruelly, like how she was for him whenever she graced him with her presence. Even after all these years—especially after this afternoon—it stung as much as it ever did.

“Nothing... why do you ask…?” He had managed to will himself to move from the doorway before they had discovered his presence. And after they had left for dinner, he had migrated to the sofa and stayed there until now. He could not help but take note of the slight grayish-beige smudge at the corner of her eyes that was almost covered by a reapplication, and it drove home the fact that she had cried earlier today—

“You sure?” Her eyes shone bright and blue. It was such a contrast to her tear-stricken face at the farce of the memorial and earlier today. Hopefully, it would be the last time she shed a tear for him. She deserved to be happy, to move on and have nothing to tie her down like the two years he had clung on to her before he finally broke down and “broke up” with her—when he had been cruel and naive in thinking that he had had a chance to return to being Kudo Shinichi and get on with life as if the shrinking had never happened.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He had to be. Even though he knew that his attempt at an assuring smile did not reach his eyes. Nowhere near, in fact.

(Still lying after all these years? Looks like you never learn.)

But she bought it anyway as she patted him on his head and told him head to bed early.

His heart crushed into itself. Even though this was exactly what he had intended, and as much as he knew how contradictory he was, it still clawed hard on his soul that she… had not been able to see through his lies and mask, as if she had never cared about him.

 _Nevermind,_ he thought as he shook his head before he lifted himself off the sofa and made his way up stairs.

_She deserves to be happy. That’s all that matters in the end._

(See, they do not care of you. They never did.)

-o-

“ _Kudo...”_

“ _It’s Conan-kun. Haven’t you heard, Hattori? Shinichi-niisan is dead.”_

“ _K—...I am sorry.”_

“ _Don’t be.”_

“ _I—I know the data disappeared with the fire, but can’t the little neechan still work on it—”_

“ _There’s no point.”_

“ _What? B-but don’t you—”_

“ _Kudo Shinichi is dead; nothing can bring him back. Better to leave things as it is.”_

“ _Kudo...”_

“ _And we should be letting her live her life, not stuck inside a lab to work on something that I can’t take in the end. Even if she had succeeded, what can Kudo Shinichi come back to? It’s better this way, Hattori... niisan. Maybe now you can finally remember to call me Conan-kun, ne?”_

-o-

He could see Kogoro-occhan stealing glances at him from across the table. His attempts were increasingly indiscreet as dinner progressed further into the night. The television flickered in the background, though neither of them paid much attention to the show.

Well, Shin—Conan could not blame him, since he had not taken more than a couple of bites from his own dinner.

It’s been a month since that funeral. Two weeks since he had accidentally witness that... episode... with Ran and Hondou. One week since Ran had headed back to university as the winter holiday ended.

Ever since then, he had been struggling to keep his spirits up. It just was not worth the effort anymore, to put up a front to make sure everyone else around was not worried about him.

Fundamentally, human beings only cared about themselves and how that affected them at the end of the day.

Right?

He looked back at his bowl. This time, he barely managed to stop himself from dry heaving— _No, not in front of Occhan_. His stomach churned again, though he knew it had nothing to do with the food in front of him.

(They don’t care...They don’t.)

“I’m not hungry,” he announced as he took his untouched bowl into the kitchen and then headed straight to his room. Behind him, he could hear Kogoro-occhan grumbling under his breath, presumably about all the effort he had wasted in preparing dinner for such an ungrateful brat like him, or maybe grumbling about how he should have gone back to wherever he had come from by now.

(No one cares, after all.)

-o-

“Oi! Kudo! How’s life been?” Hattori’s voice was deliberately light and cheerful, with an undertone of concern and irritation, seeing at this was the twentieth time Hattori had called before Shinichi could finally bring himself to answer it. And that was just today.

That much he had been able to pick out. However, to be honest, he did not know what to do it the information.

(Useless skill, not like it had ever been useful when it really mattered.)

Hattori still refused to call him Conan-kun… and every time he heard that god-forsaken name... Hattori just did not understand how much the name was like a knife to his bleeding heart.

“It’s alright. Same old, same old.” Conan decided to settle with that answer, not giving an explanation to the other two hundred and forty-three text message that he had not even read yet, let alone replied back.

“Really? Oh! Eh… It’s about the same here too… Hmmm... Kudo,” Heiji was clearly struggling to keep the conversation afloat. Conan wondered briefly why he had bothered to call, seeing as he had not actually had a reason for it. Usually by now the Osakan would have launched into his usual tirade of cases he had solved, or teased him about one thing or the other, or... just something.

(As if he really cared. No one cares about you, remember? No one.)

Conan tightened his grip on his phone. “It’s really about time you stop calling me ‘Kudo’.”

“Eh? But…”

“Kudo Shinichi is dead.”

(They only pretend to care because it what they are socially supposed to do.)

“But K…”

“Whatever. I have to go... Hattori-niisan,” and he immediately ended the call.

Shinichi threw the phone back to the bottom of the drawer again, where it had taken up residence for the past month.

_(But do they actually care? No, of course no.)_

The phone vibrated again a few seconds later. Conan dutifully ignored it. Just as he had done for the past hour since Hattori had started calling.

Conan remained unmoved on his bed—her bed—breathing in her scent that still lingered in the sheets, feeling utterly numb in a way that had nothing to do with the season, seeing as it was just turning into spring. He had taken up Ran’s room since she left for university and now stayed at the dorms. While it had initially been a reprieve from Occhan’s snoring, now though, he did not want to look too closely as to why he was torturing himself like this...

The phone vibrated again, shaking the bedside table ever so slightly.

You would think he could learn to call him ‘Conan’ by now. After five long years.

_(Remember, no one cares about you.)_

But then again, he probably only cared about Kudo Shinichi’s supposed deductive prowess, right? Wasn’t that why Hattori had decided to seek him out in the first place anyway?

_(No one cares.)_

Not that he could offer even that to Hattori anymore, seeing as he had proven to be useless on the front. Those dead FBI men could attest to it.

So why did Hattori even bother the call?

_(No one.)_

-o-

It had crept up on him like a snake slithering up to its prey. Slow, steady, silent. And before he knew it, it had sunk its poisonous teeth into his flesh, releasing all its toxic energy into him, slowly draining the life out of him until all he was left with was skin and bones, and nothing to sustain himself. The emotional pain burnt, long and drawn out, ensuring it covered every inch of his soul. Nothing could stop the blood leaking out of your still-beating heart, squeezing every last drop of that elixir of life from you with every pump it made.

There was a word for this... this feeling. However, for the life of him, he just could not remember, even though it was at the tip of his tongue.

Not today, at least, it slipped right out of his hand like water when he tried to grab at it. 

It was a quarter past nine in the morning; the sun shone right into the room through the window and right onto the bed—onto his face—reminding him that he should have been in school by now. It blinded him whenever he so much as tilt his head a little. So he remained still, keeping his eyes shut as he felt his whole body tingle with the imaginary weight of lethargy and guilt and pain and loneliness, sinking him deeper and deeper until he couldn’t breath, right through the bed.

Her bed.

Just thinking about it was like having another arrow piercing through his heart all over again.

A future. His future as Kudo Shinichi to be more precise...

(Why did he stay here anyway… his thoughts slipped through his grasp before they could fully form.)

He should be just graduating university, in his first year at the police academy, even. Or maybe globe trotting, answer the calls of people clamoring for his skills and expertise to solve the unsolvable cases. Or going down on one knee proposing to the love of his life...

Just anywhere other than being stuck ten years behind his own age, going through mind-numbing middle school, wasting his life away.

Every inch of this room just reminded him of his failures, of all that he had lost. More so than being back in the Kudo mansion then, pounding on him, emphasising how a single mistake had ruined his life.

He had even forgotten the reason why he had not taken up on his parents’ offer to move to America with them. He should have taken them up on the offer.

Not that it mattered, in the grand scheme of things. Edogawa Conan was meant for him to slither into society, to hide in plain sight. To be invisible, even if he was here; to be soundless, even as he whispered guidance to people’s lives, providing justice for the wronged.

If only he had not remained invisible and soundless after all was said and done.

_(Selfish, ungrateful brat…)_

But it did not matter anyway. Edogawa Conan wasn’t real. Just like how Kudo Shinichi no more real than his pseudonym.

_(That’s right you aren’t real.)_

Edogawa Conan. Kudo Shinichi. Neither names belonged to him.

_(You don’t deserve it)_

Who was he? What was his name?

_(As if you mattered enough to have one, you useless piece of shit.)_

He did not have the answer to that anymore.

As he lay on the bed, now twenty minutes past nine in the morning, the sun’s rays beat down on him. He was supposed to be in school now, but he was here, motionless on his bed.

_(Her bed? His bed? Does it really matter?)_

Everything would have been so much simpler, so much better, if instead, he had drawn his last breath that day at Tropical Land all those years ago.

_(Better dead than to be so useless.)_

This nightmare that he was fighting to get out off… he was never going to get out of it... if only he could just stop it. And get away from it all.

_(End it.)_

Get away from this life.

_(End it.)_

Release him from his pain.

_(End it! End it right now!)_

...

But not today at least.

He hardly had the energy to lift his hands, let alone to get out the bed to do anything else.

For today, at least.

Maybe another time, perhaps. When he finally could muster the energy to reach for the pen knife that he had been keeping handy in his drawer—initially placed there for his own protection, to draw out the blood like how his heart was bleeding out his sorrow with agonising pain. Maybe he would do something then.

When he finally had the energy to finally break free from this never-ending nightmare.

But just not today, perhaps some other day.

_(Yes...End it...End it...)_

_(End it…)_

-o-

“ _Ai-chan. You know what’s wrong with Conan-kun, don’t you?”_

“ _Yoshida-san…?”_

“ _Can’t you tell us, Haibara-san?”_

“ _Yeah Haibara! It’s been so long since Conan has been himself. Come on, tell us!”_

“ _It... I can’t tell you. It’s not my secret to tell—”_

“ _Ai-chan!” “Haibara!” “Haibara-san!”_

“ _Look guys, it’s not that I don’t want to help him. Don’t you think Hakase and I haven’t tried our best to help him?”_

“ _But... is there really nothing that we can do?”_

“ _No... Just... just be there for him... that’s all we can do.”_

_After all, the only who can help him is himself... if he ever let himself be saved._

-o-

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Taliya for taking the time to beta this!

_It had left him blindsided when he had finally caught sight of the rigid—unmoving, ever again! No!—figures on the ground. All of them mutilated beyond recognition, lined up and out in the open, waiting to be packed into bags to be carted off to the morgue._

_He had only recognised them from the tattered uniforms that had barely held together, the bullet proof vests that had holes mostly from chemical burns—concentrated hydrochloric acid—splattered across the fabric, shrapnel of broken pieces of glass and metal stuck out, protruding deep from the skin. Their skin... their skin... All with the same melted—_

_Not able to take it anymore, Conan tore away from the sight, looking down on the ground...there was a sudden splatter that came into contact on his hand that had caught him by surprised. Instinctively, he brought them up—_

— _Red, blood red. Blood splatters on his stained hands before the liquid came pouring in bucket full from above, drenching him with blood. Their blood. No… No... NO!_

Wild, blue eyes shot opened as Conan jolted out of the bed, his gaze clouded in disorientation. Realising that he was on the edge of hyperventilating, Conan held his breath and forced his eyes to blink. His sight came into focus a few seconds later, finally recognising the room he was in before a full-blown panic could set in.

_Okay... all right… safe… that dream…_

_No…_ That memory that had somehow twisted itself into his worst nightmare…

_Just like the little girl he could not save today._

_(That right, you useless piece of trash.)_

He had been so close! Had applied pressure to her wound, even as her blood had rushed out like gushing water. She was gone in seconds, before anyone could call for the ambulance.

He had been utterly useless, even when he had been right there.

It had been an argument gone wrong between two men at the park. Everything had happened suddenly. One moment everything at the park had been peaceful and tranquil and in the next, one of them had taken out a knife and had brandished it like an idiot. He had made one wrong move in anger—

—and was unable to stop the sharp, jagged blade pushing into the thin layer of skin on the girl’s neck, spraying her blood across the ground—not unlike the splattered chemical burns on the clothes that were still so vivid in his mind, like an afterimage that he could not shake away no matter what he did, as if it had been imprinted right into his retinas.

Even after one year, that scene—that image—remained in his mind with such clarity, as if he was still at the scene. The horror today had only intensified that vision…

Vertigo suddenly hit him hard, like a speeding bulldozer on his head. The room started to spin as well—he had somehow forgotten to breath. The burning in his chest was overly constricting, forcing himself to cough just trying to get some air in—

Which he instantly regretted because all it did was brought back the phantom smell of the burnt, charred stench—

_No… Not that... He needed… He needed to get away..._

He made the mistake of climbing out of bed too quickly and almost lost his footing, what with his head hammering with excruciating pain. Luckily, he had been able to steady himself when his hand instinctively reached straight for the chair before he really fell over.

He tried to calm himself, but he could still imagine the thick, heavy smoke in the air as he took another breath, though thankfully it had lessened in intensity now, more like the reminiscence of a memory that it was supposed to be. He grabbed the coat off from the floor—it had dropped from the back of the chair when he had reached out to steady himself earlier—and took slow steps out of the room after his head stopped spinning.

It took a while but five minutes later, he found himself on the roof of the Mouri Detective Agency, feeling the cool wind under his feet as he settled at the edge of the rooftop with his legs dangling over ledge.

The summer night chill sent a shiver down his spine—it was a cold night despite the oppressing heat wave that had blasted through Beika during the day.

He did not know what had lured him up to the rooftop—he had never come up there in his six years of living with the Mouris. Not until recently, after he tried and failed to find a way to calm himself after the chain of nightmares had worn him down night after night. And those had only started to surface after that day...

… as if his subconscious was forcing him to deal with the emotional and psychological trauma that he had been suppressing, as if reminding him of the fears that used to haunt the edges of his consciousness until all his barriers had been removed. Now that he had nothing to direct his energy and attention to since he no longer had to deal with the crows anymore, they pounced on him like starving hyenas.

It had been six year since that one life-changing mistake to follow Gin and Vodka...or maybe it had been seven? He stopped counting when it stopped mattering. It did not matter anymore...since he was stuck like this forever.

Stuck in this lie that had become more real than the truth...

In the beginning, the wind blowing on his face had made him feel as though his problems were being blown away, if only temporarily. It had been enough for him before—when everything became too much, he came up to the rooftop to seek a reprieve.

_Today, however, it was not enough._

_Not anymore._

_He could not take it anymore._

(That’s right, couldn’t even save that little girl. You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the big boys’ game. Utter waste of space.)

All he had left to show was an identity that was not truly his; he was stuck playing a role that had served no purpose to anyone other than to trap in him as punishment for his teenage stupidity. It shackled him, restrained him, pulling him slowly downwards until no light would ever shine on him anymore.

He could do no right as Edogawa Conan, and he was a fool to have thought otherwise.

He could not save those men. He could not save the girl.

If only he had been Kudo Shinichi...

He was so, so tired. The only thing that remained in him was lethargy and guilt and how much they all weighed him down.

Drowned him…

Strangled him…

Choked him…

(Yes..)

_If only he could have a true reprieve, to finally be able to escape once and for all…_

(That’s right.)

_To just leave it all behind._

(End it…)

_Just one small step…_

(End it now…)

_Kudo Shinichi was already dead anyway…_

(Just do it…)

_And Edogawa Conan was never real to begin with…_

(You don’t deserve to live.)

_It would be so easy._

(That’s it. Do the right thing.)

_He was already sitting at the edge as it was…_

(Atone for your mistakes.)

_Just one small step…_

(End it!)

_That was all it would take—_

-o-

“Tantei-kun?” Kaito tentatively called out. Despite being as still as he could, frenzied nervousness frizzled within him as he waited for the detective to react.

He hoped he had made it in time.

Thankfully, that had been enough to jerk Conan out of his stupor—his ass was already shifted half way off the ledge, his body tilted forward, his hands all but ready to give the final push.

Tantei-kun had stopped in his tracks, frozen as if he had been caught committing murder.

And in a way, he was about to...

He was sure Tantei-kun had not expected to be found today—no one would have expected to be interrupted while hanging around on rooftops in the dead of the might, pushing themselves off said rooftops without any harnesses.

To be fair, Kaito sure as hell had not expected to find any sign of life lingering on the rooftops when he had been passing by the neighbourhood on his hang glider.

And Kaito sure as hell had not expected to see Tantei-kun so close to the edge of death _._

He did not know that things had regressed so badly for Conan. _And he did not need to use his imagination to know what would have happened if he had not taken this particular route after his heist._

“Kaitou KID? Wha...What are you doing here?”

And Kaito was surprised that the question came out so soft that it was barely a whisper, lacking the confidence and charisma that Kaito had come to expect him to command; his voice instead raspy and dry, and his fatigue evident. Tantei-kun had lost too much weight in his face with cheekbones jutting out in sharp angles; the bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, and pulled down far more skin than it should.

However, what worried Kaito the most was the uncharacteristic despair in his eyes.

There was nothing but pain and sorrow. It was so out of place, especially when compared to the spark of brilliance, excitement, passion and a streak of cheekiness that he had come to associate with those blue eyes.

_What’s happened to you, Tantei-kun?_

Despite the growing list of questions he had, Kaito simply responded by pulling the gem out from his pocket that he had ‘borrowed’ for the night. It was bright red and twinkled when the moonlight shone on it. But just as he had checked earlier, it was not the jewel that he was looking for.

“Just passing by.” Kaito tried to sound as casual as possible while he assessed the situation. It happened to be the truth anyway. He had only chosen the route because of the wind direction; he certainly did not expect that he would be making a little pit stop here in the first place.

Kaito had heard about the fall of the crime syndicate that Tantei-kun had been involved with and had taken a personal interest in it, since there was a possibility that it was connected to another organised crime gang running around chasing after mythical gems, and had tried to find all that he could. While he had not been able to unearth any leads that would point him to Snake, it had given him a good idea what Tantei-kun had been busy with since the little detective had stopped attending his heists.

He had marveled _—_ and maybe had been a little envious _—_ at how Mentantei-kun had managed to bring down his nemesis and come out relatively unscathed, while Kaito was still fumbling around like a fool, doing the same old routine with no end in sight. He had left it at that and turned his attention back to hunting down the ever elusive Snake, especially since Tantei-kun had not been attending his heists ever since things with the alcoholics had heated up.

It had not been his responsibility. But Kaito regretted not probing further now instead of suppressing his curiosity to find out about the detective.

Satisfied that he had adequately answered Conan’s question, Kaito pocketed the gem and took small measured steps towards the detective, who was still sitting far too precariously at the edge for Kaito’s liking. _Distract, divert, redirect._

“So, what have you been up to?” He asked the first thing that came to mind, trying to buy some time as the clogs in his mind continue to turn. Well, that was a start, though it was not exactly what he had had in mind. But he kept his voice light, not unlike trying to calm a frighten animal. With the way Conan was almost crouching, peering at him from under his fringe, it had been a fair comparison.

“... Nothing much…?” Tantei-kun hesitantly replied—so much that it sounded like a question... as if he had no idea what to answer. He was so lost that he probably had no idea how he had answered the question.

“Oh, how are your little friends, the Detective Boys and that little scientist girl?” _What’s wrong Tantei-kun?_

Tantei-kun held his silence, shifting his gaze away from Kaito and back to the streets below.

“How about Mouri-chan? Is she good?” _Tell me, please._

The silence was getting awkward. Not even Mouri-chan...

Kaito thought back to the dull, jaded eyes. That look was so familiar, he had seen it befo—

Then, it all snapped into place.

_Oh Tantei-kun..._

(Of course it had been familiar. Once upon a time, he used to see it every time he stood right in front of the mirror, when he could not find a trace of Kuroba Kaito on the reflection, only Kaitou KID.)

“You do know you are still Kudo Shinichi, right?”

Just as he expected, the detective flinched and took a sharp intake of breath, as if it physically pained him hear that question. Or maybe it was from hearing that name. His own name _—_ Kudo Shinichi.

 _Bingo_.

“What do you know? I can’t be...” For the first time tonight, Tantei-kun was emoting something other than jaded indifference.

“You’re still you.” Kaito continue, putting a hand on his shoulders. “Kudo Shinichi is just a name at the end of the day. Doesn’t matter what name you use—it’s who you are on the inside that counts.”

“Does it really? Why does it feel like it matters so much?”

The raw pain in his eyes, the voice of someone pushed over the edge... Tantei-kun was begging for a lifeline, and Kaito sure as hell was going to do all he could to give him one.

“Give it time—”

“Why? Does time heal all wounds?” Tantei-kun let out a scoff, cutting him off.

“No, but it does dull the pain, and make it easier to bear.” Kaito promised… This, at least, he could promise. He knew that was true.

“… Maybe...” Then finally, with a little nudging on the shoulder from Kaito, Tantei-kun pulled his legs over ledge, with his feet planted on the flat cement of the rooftop.

Kaito released a huge breath that he had not known he was holding, which prompted Tantei-kun to bring his brows closer in confusion before it rose above his bangs in disbelief a few seconds later.

“Oh... I wasn’t going to jump... I... I just needed somewhere to clear my thoughts...”

Kaito raised his eyes brows; he did not bother to hide his disbelief from his face.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to jump.” Tantei-kun repeated himself, as if the person he was trying to persuade was himself...

“Not today at least.”

Kaito could feel the blood drain from his face, leaving him paler than his suit. Tantei-kun paled as well a moment later, his hand flew over his mouth, and looked just as shock to hear what had come out of his mouth.

_No! Not if there’s something he could do about._

“It’s getting late, better get to sleep, Tantei-kun.” _He knew just what to do._ “How about we meet up another day—I’ll let you know when and where~.”

“How?” There was a hint of intrigue and curiosity in Tantei-kun’s eyes. Ah… _That was so much better._

“You’ll see.”

Hopefully, that natural curious tenacity of his would keep the detective alive until their next meeting.

-o-

KID sent him an invite to his phone about a week later.

His ‘Shinichi’ phone to be more precise. Dated with well-worn scratch marks and a crack on the screen from the time he had had been tackled to the ground by a murderer trying to escape arrest, he had left it gathering dust, hidden in the bottom of his drawer after he had ‘accepted’ the news that Kudo Shinichi had to be dead. (And by ‘accepted,’ it meant he had thrown it at the wall so hard the phone had stopped working.) It was the last physical evidence from his old life that he had not been able to let go.

And it was waiting for him at his table when he came home from school as if he had been using it all this time.

Or, at least he thought it was until he picked it up and found those marks missing and no crack on the screen. When the light lit the screen, he found the processor to be the latest android operating system with a touch screen and a fingerprint scanner instead of the keypad he had expected.

No, not his old one then. Just a look-alike. A custom-made job, perhaps? (With KID, it was most likely the case.) He let out a sigh he did not realize he was holding, and shoved away the questions (Why, KID? Why?) that he could not deal with right now. His hands stopped shaking as he opened up the message:

KMFVSQWAYZLSETWACSLJSAFKLSLAGF

Maybe it was a good thing, he thought as he picked up the phone, absentmindedly placing his schoolbag on the floor. Otherwise it would difficult to explain how Kaitou KID had gotten his number.

His mind ran through the possible combinations as he settled himself on the chair. It was simple enough, v _ery simple compared to the heist notes_ —he wondered if that in itself had been a message as well. It was a Caeser Shift Cipher, though a little tedious to find the key since it had been eight to the left _—with A equals to S, B equals to T_ —he had cracked it in no time.

Sunday. Eight AM. Beika Train Station.

-o-

Which was where he was now, counting down the seconds until the meeting time, looking out for any potential disguises the thief would likely take on.

_Conan was not sure why he had decided to come._

Catching a thief who returned what he stole? He scoffed at the thought—it had been ages since he had thought about putting Kaitou KID behind bars. It just did not seem that important in the grant scheme of things, especially since all the jewels that he had returned at least doubled in value for the owner. The only thing that had been hurting from the heists was the Task Force’s egos—and maybe the national treasury from funding the KID Task Force.

Moreover, KID had always helped him out over the years, giving him a couple of little leads that had aided in the investigation into the Black Organisation, helped out with faking of Haibara’s death on the Bell Tree Express all those years back…

_So why did he decide to come in the end?_

He knew that he had to do something about... his state of mind. That night at the rooftop—it had really hit home just how bad a shape he was in right now. The worst had been his slip up.He knew he was not coping well, but he had not realised that his state of mind had deteriorated to this point. It was one thing to think about it, but another for it to be verbalised in such a manner...

But there was one thing he refused to be— _he had decided over the week_ —was to be his own murderer.

_Was that why he decided to come?_

Maybe it was the fact that KID’s promise that things would turn for the better sounded so alluring to him: the light at the end of a tunnel he had once thought would go on infinitely until his death.

So lost was he in his thoughts that he was caught by surprise when a puff of smoke—cherry-scented, he briefly noted—burst in front of his nose. (No wonder the Kaitou KID Task Force was unable to take KID as seriously as they should have.) He instinctively jerked back to create some space between them, and when the smoke cleared, a palm with the calluses of both a gymnast and a magician appeared in front of him, a spherical object delicately on top of it.

_A... capsule toy?_

He could make out the neat and distinct line dividing the sphere with the grooves outlining the edge where the two halves met. He could also vaguely make out the silhouette of the object trapped inside it, but with the bubble wrap the details inside were lost to him.

Turning to where the hand—and the gift—came from, he saw the bright violet—and far too familiar—eyes greet him.

“Kuroba Kaito. Magician Extraordinaire. Nice to meet you.” The young man in his twenties gave a smile full of mischief and joy that he had come to associate with KID, as well as sincerity and something else he could not identify at the moment, which had not been there before from all of his prior meeting with the thief.

Or maybe he just had not been looking for it.

Which was when he realised the lingering silence hanging awkwardly as KID—Kuroba—waited for him to respond.

“I-I… hmmm, Good morning?”

 _Oops._ He had not meant for it for it to come out as a question.

“Ehhh?! That’s it? A ‘good morning?’ That’s all I’m getting? And here I thought I’d have gotten more out of you than that, Tantei-kun,” and he dramatically sighed, his previous grin morphing into a petulant pout.

“Ahh! I mean... I was… was just surprised...”

 _To see you out of disguise...That you’re showing me your own face…_ _Telling me your_ _name…_

Never mind his suspicions about their resemblance. With facial-recognition technology nowadays, it would have been far to easy for him to wheedle out everything about KID and his civilian identity from any of the security cameras that may have captured his face. He was sure there was at least one here in this station that would have captured his face in all its full glory. This was enough, in theory, for Conan to hand this piece of information over to the police—not that he would. However, it was still a ginormous risk on KID’s part to do this. What did he do...to earn this?

Conan took a quick, discreet glance at the toy on his palm—yes, fingerprints. And no coating on the finger tips to prevent any accidental transfers either—and so some reason, Conan was sure that those prints would ping on KIDs civilian identity if he were to check them against the police database too.

He knew this. KID knew this.

 _And he was sure that Kaitou KID had given him his real name, even though he did not have the means to confirm it at this moment (and of course he would check it later). There was just something about the way KID was carrying himself, the way his eyes seemed to be radiating_ _sincerity…_

_So, why? Why did you hand over your identity like this?_

He had not known what KID had planned when he said to meet up. But this... this was the _last_ thing he had expected from the thief when he received the cipher—the invitation.

Conan took in the sight on the man before him. No tell-tale signs of make-up powder, and from the shade and distribution of pink on his cheeks, he could tell that KID had not worn any marks. He had known that Kaitou KID had to look like him to a certain degree to be able to disguise himself as Kudo Shinichi without a latex mask, but upon closer inspection, those similarities gave way to differences that only showed the person this Kuroba Kaito was. His jawline was masculine and sharp; his hair tossed and unkempt. More importantly, his eyes were in an entirely interesting, alluring shade of violet that even contacts could not replicate, and they spoke to him far more than he could understand at this moment.

“Oi, are you going to take it or not?” The toy capsule in his hand jiggled a little as he gently lifted it to Conan’s eye level.

Conan reluctantly tore his gaze away from his face—KID’s face!— and set his eyes again on the sphere, tentatively taking it from his hands.

Thankfully, nothing happened as he pocketed the little gift—it was not paranoia if they were out to get you, and he still did not think he knew KID well enough.

In any case, he decided to open it later, when he had the time to decompress and think through the... significance of what KID was doing. KID certainly approved, since his smile just widened when he accepted the gift.

“Never thought I’ll live to see the day that the Meitantei gets tongue-tied~.”

“… so what’s this about anyway?” he mumbled, ignoring that last comment as he tried to keep his blush down. It was not his fault that KID was too confusing for him to figure out without his morning coffee.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” KID asked, and he held something else in front of his face again. This time, it was a piece of paper—thick, like a greeting card, with beautiful cursive calligraphy writing: another cipher, yet a little different from the last one he received. “Why don’t you solve this one too while we make our way there?”

“Where to?” he asked, though his eyes drifted back to the cipher:

YT IL AE RE NO ZT CE JO RP SR EV ID TY IC LL AM NA PA JL AU TR IV

“You’ll find out when you solve it, Tantei-kun~.”

Then, the man placed his hands on Conan’s shoulders and started sending subtle nudges for him to head to station gantry.

Without much more prompting, he followed his lead. (And why did he trust KID? He was not sure he was ready to juggle all these issues at once.So many questions twirling in his mind. So he shoved it to the back of his mind and just focused on the warm, steady weight on his shoulders.

 _Trust_.

Well, he had nothing to lose anyway.

Trusting KID to lead him safely to his destination, Conan turned his attention to the code, his interest perked. He only had as much time as it took to reach their destination to solve this cipher.

_Now, the coupling of the alphabets is probably meant to be misleading, but if I joined them together..._

-o-

He solved the cipher—a double transposition cipher this time, he briefly wondered if KID had timed it so that he would not solve it too early, as that would explain why it had not been a nother simple Caeser Shift Cipher—just as they exited the station to find himself right in front of the place he had just deciphered:

Diver’s City Mall Japan, Virtual Reality Zone Project.

Confusion must have been written on his face, as Kaito just smiled at him as he herded him towards the pop-up installation.

The VR Zone Project. He vaguely remembered Mitsuhiko in his endearingly nerdy enthusiasm excitedly describing the pop-up arcade for extremely realistic virtual reality games that his sister had brought him to just last week. Ayumi and Genta had been jealous enough, and Haibara had even looked interested enough that she had been planning with the kids to cajole Hakase to bring them there.

_And this is where Kaitou KID had brought him._

_Why?_

“Seriously KID, why did you bring me here?”

“Kaito.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Kaito. There’s a reason why I gave you my name, you know?” he pouted petulantly as he moved in front of Conan to face him.

“But KID-”

“Kai-to.” the magician interrupted again, moving right in front of his face again, this time mouthing his name slowly, exaggeratedly enunciating his words.

“Okay, fine. Kaito.” He conceded with a sigh when KID-Kaito refused to move from his personal space.

K-Kaito’s grin had shone brighter than a spotlight and pulled away, satisfied like a cat with a canary.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked again. He knew he sounded far more annoyed than he truly felt, but it was vexing. Nothing that Kaito did this morning made any sense. What was the point of all these—

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” KID gestured his hand to the station in front of them—Conan had not realised that they had walked towards one of the games—and using his other hand, Kaito tapped a card onto the scanner. A beep sounded as second later, as the screen in front of them flashed with a “Start.”

“It’s not going to wait for you.”

Conan huffed, even though he knew it sounded ridiculous from him—so did the magician, with how his grin only widened further—and sat down to play the game.

KID was being so confusing and irritatingly close-lipped about everything. He made his stomach churn in nervousness as Conan entertained and dismissed hypotheses and possibilities regarding KID’s motive. What could KID possibly get out of bringing Conan to the arcade on a Sunday morning?

Help him search for that gem? An upcoming heist? Still no reason for an arcade of all things…

There really was no rhyme or reason as to why KID was doing this. Because it could not possibly just be—

“Oi! Stop over thinking things, Tantei-kun,” and immediately he felt a cold, wet metal object pressing against his left cheek.

_Cold! Cold! Cold!_

Conan jerked back away and glared at the perpetrator.

_Definitely in his early twenties. Maybe with a year’s difference from his original age? That particular trick had been popular in his Second Year in high school, and as far as he knew it did not catch on with any of the other age groups._

“Oi! I said stop thinking.” Kaito shoved the soft drink into his hand when Conan did not make a move to take it. Conan vaguely noted the “Game Over” sign flashing on the screen— _when did that happen?_

“—You didn’t even hear my question, did you?”

“What did you ask me?” Conan asked as he flicked at the sides of the can to get rid of any agitated carbon dioxide—the disappointed pout of Kaito’s face was proof enough that the thief had shaken the can—before he pulled the tab and no foam of cola spluttered out.

“I was going to ask if you had fun today,” Kaito asked, after arranging his expression back to his more usual cheeriness.

“Eh? Fun?” _Wha—?_

“Fun. F-U-N. You know, what people usually try to have when they go out and play for the day... I know you’ve probably been overworked and are a dull Jack now. But at least you should know the term~.” Kaito teased.

_Fun? When was the last time he had fun?_

“Yeah… I did.”

_Was this just it?_

“Huh?”

_Why he did it?_

“Fun… I had fun…”

_Was this what he meant? When he promised that it would get better some day?_

“Thank you for bringing me here.” _And here he was acting like a paranoid bastard._

“Well, then, thank you for being here.” KID smiled, not at all mocking and full of understanding, looking at him as if he had managed to look through him, into him, and had accepted him. And somehow he found that he did not mind at all. In fact, he felt… reassured.

 _Safe_.

Not exactly the right word, but it would do for now...

“So... that’s why you decided to bring me here?”

“Yeah...what did you think it was for? Think that I was going to kidnap you for nefarious things?”

“I don’t know? I… I didn’t really think about it.” Though the blush on his face gave him away. Kaito just laughed and ruffled his hair before Conan could move away.

“Yes, Tantei-kun. Sometimes, people aren’t as complicated as you think they are.”

-o-

An orange-red hue painted the sky by the time they made their way to the Mouri Detective Agency.

Conan had managed to relax after that conversation and fully immense himself with the games, giving KID—no, Kaito—a run for his money. Especially at the fishing game: that, he had won by a large margin. They had ventured to a nearby park after lunch, lying on the grass and enjoying the weather.

Kaito purposely kept the topics light, sometimes keeping his hands occupied with simple sleight of hand tricks with his cards as he talked passionately between the thesis he had completed for his computer science and engineering major; he had just graduated from in Touto University. In addition, he described a riddle or two from the heists that Conan had not attended. Conan put his two pence in whenever he could, but most of the time, he just listen to him with half-lidded eyes. Kaito’s voice was somehow soothing—calming—to his ears.

Impossibly, once he truly let himself go, Conan was able to find that moment of tranquility and peace that had been eluding him the past year.

Or maybe it was the company that had thoroughly distracted him. Although his worries and depressing thoughts still tittered at the edge of his consciousness, at least they stayed there, not bothering him in the least. Kaito did a good job of occupying his mind too.

It would not last, Conan knew. But the least he could do was to savour this moment of relief.

They arrived at the bottom of the staircase of the Agency just as they finished off the last bite of their cold treat, which they had gotten after dinner (Honeycomb flavoured ice cream for Kaito and lemon sorbet for Conan).

That was a worry for another day. He _had_ had fun today, just as KID had prescribed.

“Looks like this is it for the day.” Kaito declared.

“...Thanks. It was great, today... Thank you.” _It really was. He really needed it._

“Ah, before you head back in…” Kaito handed Conan another card—a personal invitation to his next heist: poker card in size with golden trimmings, and printed with an inkjet printer—he had to, to get that gold colouring—and most important of all, KID’s caricature at the bottom—

“One last thing,” Kaito interrupted, crouching to Conan’s eye level. Their eyes met, and all Conan could think of was the warm sincerity that he had been exuding all day. Conan had not realised just how much those eyes had encouraged that feeling of— _Safe. Peace. Calm._ — in him _._ “If you could do me a favour and think about whether you would like to be called ‘Conan’ or ‘Shinichi’, ne?”

“Ehh? Why?” _What do you_ —

“Ah, ah!” Kaito cut him off and raised a finger to his lips. “I mean when we are alone, of course~! Just give it a little thought, yeah? Maybe you can let me know the next time we meet.”

Startled, Conan could only bring himself to nod. Every ounce of logical instinct was screaming at him— _he had been chastising Hattori to call him ‘Conan’ for the longest time. He had even gotten Hakase to refer him as ‘Conan’ nowadays, even when they were alone._

But he could not deny a small part of him—that he knew he had failed to squash out of him no matter how much he tried—was yearning for it.

To be called Kudo Shinichi again. Denying it only made that want stronger.

 _But, what would it mean? If he accepted being called Shinichi again? Was he not supposed to move on? Would that just throw him back_ —

Suddenly, he felt Kaito’s fingers under his chin, gently coaxing it up so that their eyes would meet again. _When had he looked down at his feet—_

“Chin up! And don’t worry, I won’t forget like how your Osaka buddy does.” Kaito must have been seen something in Conan’s expression that satisfied him, because he gave Conan another big, warm smile that held the impending panic at bay and amplified the calm in him.

Then, a quick ruffle on his head, Kaito turned and started walking away.

“See ya soon, Tantei-kun. I’ll be expecting you!”

-o-

The first thing he did when he reached the safety of his bedroom was to take a good look at the little capsule toy. It had been weighing at the back of his mind—and his pocket—for the better part of the day.

And, somehow, it felt, far, far more important than the card and riddle and KID’s next heist—as if he could finally grasp a small part of KID, a chance to understand the man better.

After fiddling with the plastic, he twisted it open, surprisingly easy compared to the ones he had had to open before—

It was a phone strap. He pulled the blue velvet ribbon out of the sphere, revealing a white tom cat at the end, wearing a white top hat with blue trimming between its ears, and the all too familiar monocle on the right eye.

 _No company logo printing on the capsule ball or the phone strap itself. Plastic specifically used in 3-D printing, with the rough edges smoothed out with sandpaper and the details painted with perfection with acrylic paint_ — KID-Kaito had made it himself.

Later on, when he looked back and thought about it, he could not remember what had gone through his mind when he, without a second thought, put it on the phone that Kaitou had given him earlier that week. Even though he knew that, despite it being smaller that his pinky, he would be ridiculed for it, especially since the moniker “KID Killer” had stuck on harder than superglue to his reputation; even with much more solved murders cases under his name; even though it had been ages since he had attended a KID’s heist.

But for that short moment, alone in the safety of his room, he savoured this meaningful little gesture that would remind him of the better things in life as he cradled the phone and strap like the most precious bauble, and in some ways, it was. It was a sign—no, a physical symbol of the promise from Kaito that he could start anew despite his past. It made him feel a little less lonely after all these month putting up the wall around himself. And even if he did not know it yet, it would remind him of the possibilities life had to offer him, so long as he opened his eyes.

And remind him of the life-changing moment when he first time met Kuroba Kaito.

-o-

“ _Why did you do it?”_

“ _Huh?”_

“ _Reveal your identity to me?”_

“ _Well, why don’t you solve that little mystery, Mentantei~? In fact, I am sure you already have an idea why~!”_

“ _...I know you mentioned that you were considering it, but what tipped the scale? It’s not just because of that night...was it?”_

“ _Don’t know. Maybe it’s just because I know you can’t resist a good mystery?”_

 _...Because if you are still as good as they say you are, Mentantei...you would figure_ _it_ _out in no time._

-o-

TBC

 

Please review if you enjoy this fic so far! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Happy belated Birthday Kaito! Was planning to post it on his birthday, but I had to work out some kinks on the fic. Thanks for the wait. So here you go!
> 
> Again. Many thanks to Taliya for beta-ing this!

The rain came beating down on them like a monsoon out of season. It caught everyone by surprise with its ferocity, smashing onto the windows hard, as though a machine gun had been firing upon them. Thunder came crashing down on them sporadically, resembling war drums summoning out the hellhounds in preparation for a battle. It was a far cry from the usual splattering of water that usually graced the metropolis.

_If this keeps up, Kaitou KID won’t be able to escape via his hang glider! That’s one less escape route to worry about._

Nakamouri Ginzo, inspector from Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department’s Division Two, could barely contain his glee as he performed a final check on the premises. _This might be the day that Kaitou KID finally gets caught!_

Then came the very person that put an instant damper on his mood. Just out of the corner of his eye, Ginzo spotted Mouri’s ward, Edogawa Conan, stepping into the museum drenched all the way down to his toes.

“Edogawa-kun? What are you doing here, brat?” Ginzo gave him a disapproving stare. Not that he did not know why the boy was here, of course. With his last caffeine intake twelve hours ago and barely fifteen hours of sleep under his belt in the past week, the unnecessary question just slipped from his lips . He had just worked everything out for the heist, down to the last nut and bolt, only to have this interloper screwing up his best laid plans. The boy had rocked up to the station and shown him the invitation first-hand when he requested permission to attend the heist few days ago.

 _Inconsiderate rascal,_ he complained in the back of his mind as he watched the water started pooling beneath the teen, who was shaking his—utterly useless—umbrella before stashing it in a corner.

In his opinion, the boy should have continued to stay away from the heists like he had done for the past few years. Even more so now, since the weather had taken a bad turn this afternoon. In fact, if not for the personal invitation—and how those sentimental fools from Division One had ogled at his team in a combination of surprise, bewilderment, and gratitude at him and his department, as if he had been personally responsible to the boy’s presence. He would have outright rejected the request. Twelve was still too young to be out so late and attending KID’s heists.

“Nakamouri-keibu.” The boy’s salutation was rather subdued, with a respectful bow in greeting... well, at least the kid had learned some manners over the years. So unlike his guardian, who still acted like a buffoon the last time he encountered the famous detective.

He had heard about the trouble the boy had gotten himself involved in—and how mellow the kid had become after the whole thing was over and done with. _Probably too traumatised by what happened—this is why kids should just stay at home and stick to their mystery novels_ , the inspector thought grumpily, though with a little hint of reluctant concern that he would not admit to anyone but himself.

He had seen members of the Division One peering into his office when the kid had entered headquarters looking for him with an _amalgamation of morbid curiosity and intense relief_ at his appearance after vanishing from both crime scenes and the public eye for a year. Megure in particular had been seconds away from _combusting with triumph and ecstasy_ at seeing the boy exhibiting more life than Mouri had been reporting. _Dramatic morons._

Though come to think of it, it _had_ been rather disconcerting to see the boy acting like a muted version of himself, showing none of the barely contained arrogance and excitement that he remembered the boy had possessed all those years ago when Edogawa had been a mere seven-year-old. He continued to eye the boy as he let out an involuntary shiver as the boy walked past the air-conditioner on his way to the toilet _. Hopefully that brat has some change of clothes in his bag..._

_...Peh! Wait, why was he worried about this? It wasn’t his problem if the boy got sick from the rain..._

“Just make sure you don’t get in the way,” he called out after the boy, huffing when the boy nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to his team. He had better double check the plans with Konno-kun—again. Despite his earlier sentiments, Ginzo had to make sure the boy would not get hurt during the heist. The boy was still a civilian, after all, and he would never hear the end of it from Megure otherwise.

-o-

Conan kept himself out of the way as the Task Force positioned themselves in preparation for the heist that was due to start in a few minutes. Leaning against the wall at the far corner of the room—and almost blending into it with how still he was—he scanned the room again until his eyes landed on the targeted jewel on display. He had just changed out of his wet clothing and was thankful that he had located a spare that had been tucked in the bottom of the bag he had randomly grabbed right before rushing to the museum.

(It had to have been a very old set of clothes, since he had vaguely noticed how high the hems of the pants had become, rising to the middle of his calves when it should have just grazed his ankles. In addition, his shirt was a little tight across the shoulders and chest. Right now he stood just over five feet tall—he was going to hit his growth spurt soon, if he remembered correctly.)

Fiddling with the kitty toy phone strap on his new phone that KID had given him, he waited for the appointed time to arrive. Questions still swirled in his mind as they had done for the past few days; he was still mulling over what had transpired the week prior.

_Conan or Shinichi?_

He still did not have an answer to that question. At least, not a clear-cut one that would not leave him filled with either anxiety and guilt or resentment and regret... Especially since he had spent the last year getting everyone, especially Hattori, to stop calling him by his real name.

_Shinichi or Conan?_

All he could think about was what Kaito had said: _“Doesn’t matter what name you use—it’s who you are on the inside that counts.”_

_Conan or Shinichi?_

_Well you stupid, confusing thief, if it does not count, then why did you even ask me to choose in the first place?_

But he knew there was something else, something on the tip of his tongue. But it would flee whenever he tried to reach out for it.

He had spent the last week thinking about it with a clearer mind than he had had in months. It had struck him at an odd moment how, of all people, it was Kaitou KID that he felt the most comfortable with...

Or maybe it was because they were technically strangers, and KID was so far removed from his social circle that it made it easier for him to talk to. Kaito, it seemed, was an expert in navigating the treacherous minefield of sensitive topics and was able to keep Conan’s mind in the present.

His own experience was unique; he knew that. But perhaps Kaito had experienced something similar enough to know how to handle him? That was food for thought, and somehow, as comforting that idea was, the epiphany was a little too morbid for him to chase down that particular line of thought. In any case, he did not need someone fumbling around trying to fix him whenever he did not act according to their expectations (like how some of the others had tried), and Kaito sure seemed to know how to navigate around these treacherous waters.

This was why he came today, despite not having any interest in the actual heist itself.

He needed help. And maybe he could figure out the answer to that question here, today.

Looking back into the room, he could see that nothing was amiss, and in his absence from KID’s heists in the last few years, it was highly likely that KID’s skills had only improved. He noted that the manpower was less than he remembered—he had heard that the department had experienced a reduction in resources when the PSB had requested for every available man to help hunt down the remaining agents of the Black Organisation.

But it seemed it had not been as bad as he had heard, because the KIDs Task Force seemed to have just gained back their men as the PSB’s activities had died down once the majority of the syndicate was behind bars. KID seemed to be aware of this little fact, and from what he had managed to find online, had only publicly hosted a couple of heists that had involved Division Two. In fact, today seemed to be the first heist KID had publicly announced in a long while. (There certainly had not been any heist publicised in the papers that night that KID appeared on his rooftop to stop him from making another irreversible mistake).

Though the lack of manpower did not seem to dampen Nakamouri-keibu’s mood as he could hear him bellowing across the room, still as energetic as when he had first met the man.

Not a second past the heist time, smoke started bellowing from beneath the display case, quickly enveloping the gem and continuing to both flow up to the ceiling and expand across the room. The concoction was cherry-scented , Conan noted, the smell strong enough even from his location across the room. Just as quickly, the cloud of smoke dispersed, and as expected, the Wishing Star had disappeared along with it.

His eyes quickly darted around, though his gaze was immediately drawn to the metal grill of the air vent had been left hanging by a screw.

As if on cue, the Task Force rushed out of the room in a stampede with a few climbing into the vent, determined to pursue the thief.

Everything happened in a flick of a magician’s fingers. He was suddenly the only one left lingering in the room and...Wait! the cherry scent was still strong… Conan twisted to his left—

“KID.”

Leaning on the doorway, a mere couple of feet away from him, was KID in the task force raid uniform, with his iconic grin stretching across his lips shamelessly identifying him as the man of the hour.

“Oh, Tantei-kun,” he greeted as he tore the mask away, revealing his true face. “Glad you could join me tonight. I was not entirely sure you’d make it, to be honest.”

“Well, you did personally invite me,” he shot back as he watched KID—he was KID now, when he dressed like this—strode towards the case, past it, and straight towards the window.

“So, the jewel... you already swiped it way before it was even inside the case,” Conan confirmed as he followed KID, stopping right behind him as the man pulled out the gem in question.

“Obviously.” Holding the purple gemstone up, KID turned his body towards the window, letting out a smug confident tone “And I guess you figured it out the moment you walked into the room? I noticed you stiffened a little earlier.”

“And have you checked it?” There was no need to provide KID with a confirmation, not when he had hit the nail on the head. Moreover, Conan was far more interested in his little hypothesis—that KID was looking for a specific gem, which was why he had never had any problems giving back what he stole...

“Not yet. Would you like to check it with me?” The rain had stopped five minutes ago and the sky had cleared enough for the moon to shine in its full glory. KID must have chosen the timing specifically for this.

KID brought it up against the moonlight, the stone shining bright like the star it was name after, and the twinkling left white streaks in his eyes if he stared at it too long. Conan turned to look back at KID.

A small frown slipped onto his face—

“That’s not it? Is—” Conan began, but was cut off by KID’s panicked cry.

“Get down!” He had not heard such raw fear since—

The next thing he knew, KID was pinning him down by throwing all of his weight on top of him, the hard floor pressing painfully against his back. Pain arced up his arm and he could feel the soreness of his elbows from the sudden impact that was amplified by the momentum of their fall. Shattered glass pieces scattered across the floor, barely inches away from them. With KID still wearing his task force uniform, padded bulletproof armor and all, they managed not to get cut by the broken glass.

Filing everything away— _the bullet hole on the floor, that deep. Possibly a civilian two-two-three? Rifle. Angle of shot. Far from the head. Amateur sniper. The fear in KID’s eye!_ —Conan quickly wriggled out from beneath KID’s body, his hands already on the button on his glasses zooming in on the location of where the shooter mostly likely had position himself— _Balcony. Two stories higher. Opposite building. A figure already turning back into the apartment building_ —

He let out a curse. His mind raced ahead of him, calculating the probability of him able to catch up with the shooter.

_That apartment building has twelve floors. We are on the third. So the optimal angle—sixty degrees—would be taking the shot from one of the apartments —fifth floor, after taking the distance into account. A missed shot, not the same caliber as the Black Organisation agents—with that gun? Sloppy. Or an idiot. Though he must have noticed that the shot missed KID—no blood, wrong angle after taking the shot—must have panicked when KID noticed him. But he had to get away with the police crawling over the place. Lift access. No point with five flight of stairs—but he would need time to pack his equipment. That’s thirty seconds adding to another twenty seconds. He has less than a minute—and it was only one shot..._

He took another look into the apartment—the shooter was not there anymore. So he would not be able to see what Conan was about to do.

 _Good_.

Ignoring KID and his fear-ladled question _—_ “Tantei-kun! Are you alright?!” _—_ he whipped out his suspenders as he quickly ran towards the window. It was an old design, the wooden support running across the glass and he weighed just under forty kilos— _y_ _es the wood will still hold if I’m careful._ Disregarding the glass fragments, he opened the window—it had already been unlocked by KID, most likely. A quick hop around the frame and down he went, propelling down the building, ignoring the fading cry from KID—“Tantei-kun! Wait!”—and the police officers as he reached the ground floor in three seconds flat.

He pushed himself harder than his body could take, too out of shape after a whole year of inactivity, and reached the apartment block with ten seconds to spare.

_Front door? Back door?_

And he caught sight of a car moving out of a lot and straight to the back of the building—a getaway car.

_There! Back door it is!_

He reached the back—just in time to see the shooter getting into the car.

_No! He had to stop that shooter! What to do? What to—_

A flicker of black and white flew past him, headed straight for the tires— _KID’s card ammunition!_ It bit into the rubber tire, tearing into the material, and the car instantly fishtailed into the lamppost the moment the driver floored the accelerator.

_There! Now’s my chance!_

Instinctively, he reached for his belt, pressed the button, and went through the familiar motion of kicking the soccer ball that had burst out of the belt buckle—he did not need his super-charged shoes for this shot.

_Bam! One down!_

Conan turned his attention to the driver, his hands already in position to fire his tranquilizer gun—

A showdown. The driver had his 9mm caliber handgun out. He could already see from the way he braced himself that he was about to shoot—

—another card came flying and knocked the gun out of his hands, pulling from him a pained cry—

—before he slumped onto the ground right after the anesthetic needle pricked his forehead.

With the danger finally out of the way, Conan put his hands on his knees, bending down to suck as much oxygen into his lungs as he could— _definitely out of shape._

And not a second later, the cops descended on them.

-o-

Conan lost sight of KID when the horde of police came rushing in to arrest the men.

Nakamori-keibu had thrown a fit when he had found the broken glass window and bullet hole on the floor, and had thrown an even bigger one when he found out that Conan had been mere inches away from a gun pointed right at his face. He had not been out of the inspector’s sight ever since.

Even after giving his statement, Nakamouri-keibu had dragged him back to the station, determined to make sure that Conan did not incur any more scratches on him while under his watch. (And the inspector was not the type to foist this kind of job onto his subordinates, who he had encouraged to head home as soon as they were done with their work for the day. Though why the inspector was even doing paperwork at this hour was anyone’s guess. He certainly was not going to ask the man about it.)

The inspector had refused to let him go home by himself, not with what had transpired tonight, in case the bullet had been for him. KID was most likely the target, but the inspector was playing it safe—the hit men had refused to talk, and everyone in the precinct knew about his involvement with the Black Organisation.

He had conceded to that point and had followed the inspector reluctantly. Conan had not wanted to call Kogoro-occhan to bring him home, knowing that the man was on a tailing job tonight. He might have to call the professor, though he felt guilty calling him so late at night, even though he had arranged to stay at his place for the night. The man’s health had not been at its best in recent years. Even with Haibara’s stringent restrictions on his diet, old age was catching up to him.

However, he really did not want to stay in the station any longer than was necessary—especially after the Inspector had declared that he was going to send him straight to the Agency— _and no where else! You troublesome brat!_ He shifted in the old, rickety chair that he was sitting on, trying his hardest not to make it creak (he did hoped that they would be replaced soon after having sat on his fair share of the uncomfortable chairs for the past few years, but he doubt the police department could find the budget for it), while finding a comfortable position to nurse the bruises that were probably growing steadily darker on his back—but not his head. KID had pushed hard to protect him from the shooter; his bruises could attest to that. Despite how fast everything had escalated, KID had somehow managed to cradle Conan’s head and neck so that it did not hit the floor... which was very impressive—not that he would ever admit it to the thief.

And he needed to talk to KID, to talk to Kaito. _What was going on? Who had sent those hit men? What kind of trouble are you in?_

_What does it have to do with this gem that you have been looking for all these years, Kaito?_

He could not help but find himself getting worried about this man who he had just gotten to know. A man who knew what to say in order to him to make him feel better, who knew what to do to help him out.

_Who he had just now learned the name of._

As the questions continue to twirl in this mind, he looked back up from his phone to see the progress Nakamouri-keibu had made on his paperwork. The man sat at his desk, muttering obscenities as he pecked at the keyboard with his fingers.

_At this rate, it was going to take ages before I can step out of this office, let alone the headquarters._

Just as he was fiddling with his phone, contemplating his options, a voice called out from the doorway. It almost brought his heart to a halt with shock.

“Nakamouri-keibu!” An all-too-familiar chirp—that was far too unsuitable for this time of the night—called out as the door swung open to reveal one Kuroba Kaito, now dressed in a simple t-shirt, jeans, and sneaker combination. And no sign anywhere that he had been involved in tonight’s heist.

“Ah, Kaito-kun! What are you doing here?” _What the hell?!_

“Well, I came to pick up Conan-kun. Do you know... there he is!” _What is he doing here?_

“Ehh... Kaito-niisan?” _What is he doing here? And with his own face!_

Despite the interruption—the last couple of men to interrupt Nakamouri-keibu had received a rather sharp scolding—he was genuinely happy to see Kaito. _Relaxed shoulders, the ever-present frown gone from his face, the cheer in his voice, the honorifics—_ all spoke familiarity that had gone on for years since Kaito was a child—

“Eh? You know the brat?” _Does Nakamouri know about Kaito’s other identity? No, he could not have. Far too enthusiastic and determined for it to be an act._

“Yep! We even went to the Virtual Reality Arcade that Aoko had been talking about!”

“Oh. Good,” Nakamouri grumbled as he turned his attention back to the screen. “Then I don’t need to escort him back to the Mouris’.”

“And you can even head back earlier. Aoko’s probably waiting for you at home,” Kaito cheerfully reminded. An effective one at that, with the way the inspector sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

“If that’s the case… then off with you. Make sure to bring the brat safely home. And you!” The Inspector turned and pointed at Conan, his face quickly morphed into an ugly sneer that he had just displayed for his men for interrupting him earlier “Make sure you behave for Kaito-kun, you hear me?”  
  
“Okay!” he squeaked, and quickly scampered out of the room, not waiting any longer to get out of there and not willing to look at a gift horse in the mouth.

-o-

“You know the guy who’s in charge of the KID’s Task Force. Personally,” Conan started once they stepped out of the station, far too flabbergasted and a little impressed to not confront Kaito about that little tidbit that Kaito had purposely thrown at him once they were out of earshot.

“He was my neighbour, and I went to school with his daughter. Though that happened way before I became KID, so that’s not my fault!” Kaito replied with far too much amused smugness as he led Conan to a motorbike that was parked nearby. “But what can I say, I like to live dangerously~.”

“No wonder you always escape... you mole.”

“Guilty as charged~!”

As they reached Kaito’s bike—a well-loved Suzuki GSX 250 R—he decided it was now or never. Kaito’s reaction to the assassination attempt earlier seemed too atypical for this to be a one-time occurrence. Especially when he seemed like he was trying to hide behind his earlier cheer.

“You know why you were attacked tonight.” _That had been a statement, not a question._

Just as quickly, all the good natured humour on his face disappeared, and was replaced with a seriousness that seemed so very foreign to him, seeing it for the first time on his face. Conan could only blink in response at the speed in which the transformation had happened. This was way more serious that he initially hypothesised.

“... I didn’t think they would show up tonight. They hadn’t for the last couple of years, regardless of what I have been doing.” Kaito responded in a cool and collected tone—his voice far too steady, his expression far too controlled to be as unaffected as he was trying to portray.

“If I had known, I wouldn’t have invited you.” And the sharp steel in his gaze spoke volumes of the regret he felt for putting Conan in danger.

“Dammit, Kaito. What are you… Urgh! Do you even know who they are and what they are after?” Conan let out a small growl in frustration. He knew he was getting too invested in someone who he had only recently discovered his true identity. Though, if he was being honest with himself, he had always been invested—

“Enough to know that I have to stop them from getting the Pandora—”

“Did… Did you say… Pandora?” Conan stilled as he asked for clarification. He could feel the cold chill shivering down his spine. Pandora… _The Black Organisation?!_

Kaito’s face suddenly drained of all colour, leaving a pale white canvas. The silence between them was suffocating as they stared each other down. His mind spun with this revelation. 

Kaito was the first to break eye contact, handing him a helmet and nudging him to get on the black Honda.

“Tantei-kun. You… know something about... it?”

“Only if we are referring to the same thing...” Conan paused for a moment, before typing something on the phone. “The Professor’s house? I told Occhan I’d be there tonight.”

-o-

“Hakase, do you still have the laptop?” Conan called out as Agasa opened the door to his house.

“S-Conan-kun. I do. What do you need it for?” He asked, though his eyes were locked on the figure hovering behind the detective with inquisitive wariness. “Who’s this?”

“Ahm that’s—”

“Kuroba Kaito. Nice to meet you.” Conan was shocked for the second time today, and this time for displaing his face in plain view of the professor – Kaito must have known the Agasa was well aware of exactly who Kaitou KID looked like. He must have know the the professor would likely be able to connect the dots-

“Shini—!” he exclaimed, cutting himself off as he looked back and forth between them. “Wait! You’re—”

“Hakase! We can explain later.”

“Ah, yes… Of course,” he said, and quickly let them into the house.

While Agasa was looking for the laptop, Haibara came out of her room. She did not take more than a glance at the situation before she asked, “Edogawa-kun, what have you gotten yourself into this time? And with Kaitou KID of all people?”

Her tone was flat, but he had known her long enough to detect the unspoken question. _Is this about Them?_

“It might or might not be relevant to Them... it could be about Pandora—”

“Though we have not ascertained that we are talking about the same thing, Ojou-san,” Kaito responded for him with a small smile and a polite nod in greeting to the young scientist.

“Well, why don’t you settle yourselves down, we’ll start when Hakase comes back with the laptop.” That was all she said as she walked towards the kitchen, indicating her quiet acceptance to the thief’s presence. She came back with tea just as the professor came out of his room with said laptop. They all settled on the sofa, heads turned towards the thief, waiting for an explanation. Kaito took the hint and let out a deep breath before launching into his narrative.

“Alright, it’s like this...” And he started explaining about how his father had taken up the mantle of a phantom thief so that his mother could retire in peace, how he had become so good that he was sought out by a crime syndicate to steal a gem, and how he had later died for refusing that request. And how Kaito had discovered the truth behind his father’s death eight years later.

“Seriously, a gem that grants immortality?” Conan remarked in disbelief.

“Hey, don’t look at me! I’m just trying to stop them; they are the ones who believe in that mumbo jumbo. And they’ll kill anyone who gets in their way, just like Oyaji.”

That was when he noticed how Haibara had gone rather quiet, looking down at her knees in thought. (She had used to look at her toes when she was still a short elementary school grader until she had a growth spurt just this year.)

“Haibara,” he murmured, and gave a short nod to her. He was leaving it up to her to decide what to tell him. She let out a short sigh in a sort of a reluctant agreement, drawing Kaito’s attention to her.

“I know a different version of the myth than the one you just shared with us, Kuroba-san,” Haibara began.

“Wait, you mean...?” Kaito started, his head swiveling back and forth between the two apparent children. He could see the moment the thief made the connection that Haibara had been the scientist behind the poison that had shrunk the both of them.

“The initial project for the APTX started out as research for a means to immortality.” She paused and took a glance at Conan, who had crossed his arms to look out the window, where the rain had started to splatter on the glass panels again. He already knew the story, and was letting her re-tell it. It was her story anyway.

“But when my mother accidentally discovered that the starting formula left no traces of itself once a subject died—and though that had nothing to do with the Pandora... the Organisation redirected her focus towards perfecting the poison instead.” She gestured for the laptop, which Conan passed to her without complaint.

(The laptop had been one of the Organisation’s that they had stolen, which allowed them access to any file in the Organisation’s server without worrying about any virus destroying the laptop’s operating system. Akai was probably the only one who knew that they had it in their possession, but since it had belonged to a lower ranking lackey that had long since passed away—and they had managed to stage it so that _They_ had thought that the laptop had been destroyed in the fire that killed that agent—he had allowed them to keep it. Especially when the both of them had made good use of it, from the FBI’s point of view. And it was not like the police had not already procured enough evidence to prosecute the Organisation at this point.)

“During my time there, all projects that had to do with Pandora were suspended, presumably because they had not been able to find the right person to lead it, or they ran out of the material to use for the gem. Either way, I never had the opportunity to work with it, or see it in my own eyes, even.

“Another thing—that explosion at the lab...”

Conan’s eyes widened at her implication. This was news to him. “Wait. You think the experiments in the lab had something to do with Pandora… that it was the cause of the explosion…”

“Yes.” Haibara nodded. “The chemicals used to extract the gem into liquid form... Only that could have caused such a volatile explosion.”

What she was implying was crystal clear: The Organisation was in possession of Pandora.

“Anyway, this is Pandora. The Pandora that the Organisaton is focusing on.” Haibara spun the laptop to show Kaito what was on the screen.

It was a photo of a large crystalline structure, approximately the size of a grapefruit if the scale of the wine glass next to it was any indication, and irregularly shaped with a reddish-purple hue overlaid with a rainbow sheen—it was likely to be holographic if the light shone on it at different angles. The edges of the stone were chipped, and other sides had regular patterns of lines that seemed to be abrasions, or had been scratched out.

“What’s with the face, Kaitou KID-san?” Haibara raised an eyebrow mockingly at Kaito. “You _do_ know that natural rocks don’t look anything like what you see in stores? Everything has to be cut and all before it goes to the store.”

“Ah yeah.” Kaito sheepishly scratched his head. “Well, I don’t often get to see stones in their natural form in my line of work.”

Haibara merely raised her eyebrow at the weak comeback. “Anyway, it wouldn’t be too far fetched to assume that KID’s own syndicate caught wind of it, since the police wouldn’t have put Pandora under high security in the evidence locker. Assuming that the rock did not melt in the fire.”

The silence was so profound a pin drop could have been heard.

“There’s also one aspect of the myth that’s similar to what KID-san shared with us that this Pandora has as well,” Haibara continued, once she had given them enough time to process what she had just shared with them.

“When viewed under the moonlight, you can see that it’s encasing something within that glows bright red.”

-o-

“If I had known that you’d bring me so much luck in my search for Pandora, I would have personally invited you to my heists a long time ago, Tantei-kun,” Kaito said as Conan approached the magician, not turning his back to face him.

They had discussed the topic a little more before Agase-hakase had excused himself and headed off to bed, inviting both Conan and Kaito to stay the night. Haibara, having finally had her fill of human company, had excused herself from their company shortly after. Kaito had settled himself by the window, looking out at the full moon tonight, processing what he had learned. Kaito had spoken as Conan had walked out into the living room with a pillow and blanket to prepare the couch for both Conan and Kaito. It had been a long night.

“Ba’rou. It’s a good thing you didn’t,” the detective rebutted as he came to a stop next to Kaito after placing the things on the couch. “Otherwise, you might have been dead with how reckless you are. The Black Organisation wasn’t something to be trifled with.” Conan’s tone became harsh towards the end—whatever happened to Tantei-kun, it had to have something to do with them.

 _Maybe he could ask that little ojou-san, once she warmed up to him._ He had seen the concerned glances that she would cast at Tantei-kun when he was not looking.

“But you brought them down in the end.”

“Yeah, but at what cost...?”

“Well, I trust you—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Lives were lost—unnecessarily, and it was—”

 _Clenched fists, choked up, face to the front._ _Something big then, to have affected him this much. Something related to his loss of identity._

Then, Tantei-kun took a huge breath, the gleam in his eyes sharpening with determination before he continued as if he had not just lost his cool a moment ago. “It’s likely a good thing that you only found out about it now. It’ll probably be easier for us to uncover Pandora from the police than from the Black Organisation, at any rate.”

“Us?” Kaito did not bother to keep the hope out of his voice.

“You expect me to sit out on this one? It’s one of the reasons why you decided to seek me out—told all of us your identity, isn’t it? There’s no reason to do so otherwise.”

“One of them, yes.” This he could admit after a bout of silence, especially since honesty was the best way forward when dealing with Tantei-kun once he caught on. And Kaito did like to reward his detectives for their efforts whenever they caught on to his line of thoughts. “I... had toyed with the idea, since I wasn’t making headway with bringing them down. Asking for you help... I have to say that it became very appealing when I found out how large a role you played in bring down that Black Organisation of yours.”

“Also, that stone Haibara showed us. It might not be the one that they are looking for though. That crime syndicate of yours.” Conan reminded. Though Kaito recognised that it was not so much of not acknowledging his statement than it was because he did not know what to do with compliments.

“Yes, but this is the first proper lead I have had in years. Even if it isn’t the real one, I might just find something else on Snake instead.”

“Huh?”

“Stopping Snake and his cohorts is my main objective, finding the jewel has always been secondary,” Kaito explained.

“Really, I couldn’t guess.” Conan let out a short snort. “From the way I have seen you operate, it seemed like your only plan was just to get the gem. End of story.”

“Oh, what! Well, I was sixteen when I first started!” Kaito dramatically flailed, sensing the shift in mood. “Anyway, I’m changing my trajectory now, since I have a syndicate-eradication-expert on my side~.”

Tantei-kun merely raised an eyebrow, though Kaito could see a hint of a smile, clearly amused but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Syndicate-eradication-expert? Really?”

“Like you are good at coming up with names, Edogawa Conan,” Kaito shot back, smirking.

“Hey, when did this become about me…” Conan trailed off, halfheartedly complaining, knowing that he was being teased. Kaito was glad to learn the Tantei-kun was not as uptight as Hakuba-bastard was; it made it so much easier to be around him.

It made him want all the more for Tantei-kun to get better.

“On another note, do you have an answer to my question?”

The abrupt change in topic startled the detective, as if he had forgotten about the question in the light of the recent events.

Then Tantei-kun merely sighed, obviously still struggling to reconcile the idea he had proposed.

_A little more nudging, then._

“Just settle with something that you know will resonate with you,” he advised. “Don’t be logical about it.”

-o-

_Something that resonate with me..._

_Don’t be logical about it..._

_Edogawa Conan._

_Kudo Shinichi._

_Conan._

_Shinichi._

“ _Doesn’t matter what name you use_ — _it’s who you are on the inside that counts.”_

_He did not know why he clung to that phrase like a lifeline. It sounded so much like a promise, rang so strongly in his head… he could not explain why he felt he could trust Kaito to catch him if he fell._

_Then he thought of the cipher, simple but time consuming_ —“ _Sometimes, people aren’t as complicated as you think they are.” The phone—old school design, new software inside: a juxtaposition of old and new._

_The phone strap. Kaito telling him his identity. And to Agasa, to Haibara. Sharing more about himself as Kuroba Kaito, not just Kaitou KID. Like a gift._

_Insisting on calling him Kaito, sans honorifics—an olive branch._

_And in Kaito’s voice, the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle fell into place._

_Friend._

Kaito had been laying the ball in his court, ever since that night, and all he needed to do was to take a leap of faith _._

_Trust._

“...Shinichi...” he said softly, testing the name.

“Hmm?”

“Call me Shinichi... I don’t know if I should... but I would like to be called Shinichi.” And it felt good, saying it, declaring it, after denying himself that name for so long. Maybe it was time to stop fighting against it. It was not doing him any good anyway.

“Okay... Shinichi.”

-o-

Ever since her life-altering age reduction when she began hanging out with Kudo Shinichi as Edogawa Conan, Haibara Ai had had more than her fair share of weird moments... and then some.

Having tea and casually discussing the destruction of another crime syndicate with an internationally-wanted thief, however, was tame compared to the cases they had been involved with. Her life was ridiculous.

She had stopped short when she was about to re-enter the living room when she heard the murmurs and instinctively hid behind the wall—an unfortunate habit from her previous life. Once she determined that it was only Kudo and KID, however, she let out a sigh of relief and took a peek from the other end of the room. Though what she saw made her hold her breath again in surprise.

She could have sworn she saw a hint of a smile on Kudo’s lips as he conversed with the thief by the window. _What a surprise... the first sign of positive emotion in months she had seen from Kudo._

She had just woken up from her slumber, having headed to bed after their discussion had ended. She had been surprised to find that they were still up, seeing the first ray of sun shining through the window that they were facing. And even more so when she took a closer look and saw the shadows on the floor that highlighted the lack of distance... the seemingly impossible closeness for two people who had only met a couple of weeks ago and had just learned the identity of. For Kudo, who valued his personal space a lot—especially after he had passed the age where he stopped being cuddly—this spoke volumes for his opinions of KID.

Hardly anyone ever had a glimpse of Kudo’s true emotions anymore, not since he had been stung one too many times. Like a Russian doll, you had to pry hard in order to get through the outer layer, just to be met with the next layer within it. And there were many more layers to pry open before you could get to the core.

She had certainly came close, being one the few who knew his true identity. However, Kudo still guarded himself against her, and she would have been hurt and offended had he not done the same with everyone else. Ever since the memorial (or maybe it had started way before? She would probably never know), she had been worried for him; everyone had been worried about him. However, he had pushed everyone away and there was nothing that they could do but to watch the once great detective wither away slowly in front of everyone’s eyes.

That was what she had thought would happen, until today and she had gotten to witness this scene herself.

 _Maybe Kaitou KID could be the first to reach to the innermost piece of the Russian doll that was the essence of who Kudo Shinichi is._ And today was definitely a huge improvement from that apathetic, unresponsive, ghost of himself that she had seen for the longest time.

Even if it meant that Kudo had gotten himself involved in the destruction of another crime syndicate.

She would have vehemently disapproved—surely he could not afford to put so much more stress into his life—if not for the fact that Kudo never listened to her.

Or that newly returned spark in his eyes... that energy and drive that had been all but missing for the past year.

_Typical of that Mystery-otaku, to have a case to bring him out of his funk… and it figures that it had to take Kaitou KID to bring Kudo out of his slump._

It made her wonder what everyone missed that KID had managed to find.

_Kaitou Kid, Kuroba Kaito, we’ll leave him in your hands._

She stole another last glance at them, and this time through the window, she saw a rainbow stretching across the morning sun; the rain from last night must have let up again.

_The rainbow after the storm... Maybe Kudo could finally find it in himself to enjoy it now._

_-o-_

He was never able to appreciate how jarring it was to experience the mundane of middle school after having such a harrowing, near death experience over the weekend until today—being at gunpoint, even if it never triggered, certainly counts. He could barely contain what could only be a prolonged adrenaline rush in his system, drumming his fingers as quietly as possible after Mitsuhiko had hushed him for the third time that day when he had been a little too loud, even after the class had just ended. The last few months of normalcy must have really worn on him, and it felt that he needed do get use to putting on that particular old coat again—the thrill of solving cases, pursuing suspects…

Living basically...

It certainly would have explained the stark difference he was currently experiencing from the muted numbness that had been his default for so long.

He really hoped that this feeling would never go away. And at that thought, he automatically reached into his pocket, fiddling with the phone strap for a moment before turning his attention back to packing his bag for the day. He did not want to think too hard on how much the tiny plastic kitty took off the edge of the frantic nervousness that crept up on him at random internals in the last couple of days ever since they dispersed from the professor’s house.

 _Frantic nervousness—_ it had only been a short while since he had a syndicate looming over his head and he was not sure if he really was ready for it, even if he knew that he had to do something. Wanted to do something, in fact —and was that not a newly returned friend as well. He just could not bring himself not to help, especially after Kaito admitted to needing his help—

“Conan-kun?”

“Ah, A-ayumi?” Conan turned to Yoshida Ayumi, who had a mixture of concerned but determined gleam in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her the handle of her black school suitcase. Currently half a head taller than him due to her early growth spurt, she stood tall, and it would have been a truly terrifying figure if he was not truly a twenty-three year old man who had helped bring down one of the largest crime syndicate in history

“Is everything alright? You looked so scary just a moment ago.” Pressing her lips, she bore her eyes straight into his, _as if that would be enough to will him to speak to her, dammit!_

“Scary? No, it’s nothing, I was just thinking about... eh, homework.” _Nothing for you to be concerned about._ He could not help that little thought coming through, the instinctive drive to shield them—he had done enough damage stumbling into those crime scenes all those years ago with all of them in tow, especially since they had been so small, so young—

“You sure you’re alright? You can tell me—tell anyone of us, anytime. You don’t need to hold onto it. You should not.” That concerned, determined gleam morphed into a stern stare. Creases formed between her eyes, having seen through his dismissal and utterly unsatisfied that he was not taking her concerns seriously.

“Oh ehm, okay. I’ll keep... that in mind.” And he felt a tweak of guilt—that feeling was new as well. Though that disappeared the moment she pressed forward until her face was almost touching his as she tried to get her point across.

“Really? I am serious about this, Conan-kun.” _Right, okay. This is getting out of hand..._

“Eh. Yeah. I mean yes. Okay,” he managed to sputter out as the glare intensified. He briefly wondered whether she had been taking lessons from Ran.

“Good.” She nodded, and as if finally satisfied with the situation, she turned and ran up to catch up with the boys, who had already headed their separate ways at the junction as per their normal route home.

“Oh... kay...” _What was that all about?_

“She’s just worried. They all are,” an unexpected voice replied. Startled, he jerked and twisted to look for the source.

“K-Kaito?”

“Hello~. Fancy seeing you here!” Kuroba Kaito had one hand in his pocket, and the other waved casually in greeting. This time he was in a button-up, checkered shirt, smart blue pants, and sleek brown leather shoes: a smarter look than the casual attire he had seen the magician in two Sundays ago.

_Two Sundays ago? Had it only been that long since he had met Kuroba Kaito?_

“Kuroba-san’s right,” Haibara said in that particular tone whenever the subject of the kids was brought up “You two go ahead, I need to head back home. I promised Hakase that I’d help with his latest project.” And with that, she disappeared round the corner as well.

Conan could only blink at that abrupt change of events.

“You don’t have to feel guilty about not feeling guilty—don’t apologise for what you’re really feeling.”

“What...” Conan sighed, giving up on this complex situation. He was not ready to transverse the treacherous field of psychology and emotions. (Emotions more complex than murder motives were something he had never quite gotten the hang of—which was what had landed him in this situation in the first place), before turning to Kaito.

“What are you doing here?” _Don’t you have adult-ish things to do? Like work?_

“Nothing, I was just passing by~.” Kaito was however, unaffected by his disbelieving stare. He continued on though, in a low whisper as he sobered up a little, “And I also happened to have found more information on that particular little rock that we were looking for.”

“So Haibara’s theory panned out.” Their legs brought them to the park, and they settled themselves by the fountain before continuing—their paranoia spoke volumes as they instinctively made sure they were not being followed or bugged before Kaito passed his phone to Shinichi. The picture was of the rock—the rock that Haibara had shown them a few days ago—though this time taken in accordance to the police evidence collecting protocol, with measurements and all.

“Is that…!” But before he could be excited about it, he did a double take at Kaito’s expression, reflecting none of the gleeful conceitedness that he would have expected had Kaito had procured the stone.

_Bad news then..._

“It was surprisingly easy to track down the rock in the police database system. Even with so much evidence to sift through, I was able to get a ping in no time...”

Then it clicked. “... But it wasn’t there when you went to look for it.”

Kaito nodded, his gaze hardening as he looked forward, collecting this thoughts. “I thought I’d swipe it as soon as I could. But it was physically missing in the inventory. No alarm bell had been raised—it was still listed as existing in the inventory system; no reports or orders for its destruction. Sloppy inside job—definitely an amateur with no experience in espionage.”

Then Kaito produced a piece of paper.

“Look at the date stamp for the last login relating to the rock.” Kaito placed the paper in front of him and pointed at the logs.

“It was three weeks before your heist when someone had taken a look at it.” Conan immediately cottoned on. “And there’s multiple logs…”

Kaito nodded in agreement. “This has Snake’s incompetent sloppiness all over it. Or maybe complacency—since he has never been caught despite all the mistakes he’s made. It looks more likely that they have procured the gem and that they are now getting rid of loose ends. Since they no longer needed me to help find the rock for them anymore and I do know of the existence of this gem… That might have explained their lack of activities in the past year as well, if they already had their eyes on this piece... Any updates on that shooter?”

“No. Just hired guns. Was hired via mail slot under his door. Said that they would be paid the other half if he finished the job. Too sloppy to be one of the higher ups from the Orgnisation—no codenames, though they were on the list as remnant low level agents who had escaped arrest.”

“So they’ve been lying low for the past year, but I guess the money was too good to resist?” Kaito concluded, “Idiot.”

“Did you find anything out on the staff who’s doing it?”

“Way ahead of you. Sent the police a tip off. We should hear about it soon.” Kaito let out a sigh. “That’s all we can do for now anyway; we can only plan out our next step after the police do their leg work.”

“Ah.” _Nothing they could do but wait._ “Thanks for the update.” _But what else could they do other than—_

“Now that that’s over, let’s go for ice cream!” Kaito suddenly jumped up—putting a screeching halt to Conan’s thought process. Conan had not realised how closed he had been leaning into the magician—he must have, with all the low tones they had spoken with in fear of being overheard. His heart raced a little from the sudden flight response as he nursed the ear that had been hollered at.

“Really, right now?” Conan raised his eyebrow again and not just at the abrupt change of topic. Kaito was not being subtle; it was obvious that he had wanted to do more than just update him about the case—he wanted to follow up on what he had intended to do since they met at night. To be his—

“Why not? I’ll even pay for your lemon sorbet~.”

 _Friend_.

“Fine.”

_And who was he to deny this second chance of life_ _?_

-o-

Kaito had let it slip to Tantei-kun before that he had contemplated letting the detective in on his secret about KID as one of the reasons for befriending him. However, that had been the last thing that was on his mind when he extended his hand out to the detective that night...

That night on the rooftop, when he had reached out to him on impulse, it had been those blue eyes… so lonely.

And he knew a thing or two about being lonely.

Six years was a long time to keep such a heavy secret, carrying out heist after heist without anything to show for. And it was worse, when he saw how it drove the people closest to him, away from him. His mother, now halfway across the globe, still nursing her pain after all these years from losing her husband, and running away from the reminder that her son brought on whenever he donned on the cape. Nakamouri-keibu, chasing after a phantom who had once been his best friend and who was now his surrogate son. Jii-chan, who had not been able to hold on to his life to see the end of the syndicate that killed his first master, and had succumbed to the cancer that had been slowly eating him away; that Kaito had not known until he was at his deathbed...

And Aoko. No matter how close they had been, they were now, and would forever be driven apart by his decision to keep Tokyo safer in his own unique way.

At least, that was how it had started out.

He had not had the chance to interact with Tantei-kun much before, nothing outside of heists. So he had gone out on a limb when he gave out his civilian name to the detective. Later, as he had gotten to know more about Tantei-kun (that Sunday out, a few weeks ago—between the games and laughter and lighthearted banter), he recognised another soul who was likely the only one who could understand enough about what he was going through without needing words between them, even with their different experiences. And did not regret his decision. A kindred spirit, you might say. Not that he could see it, but with this budding friendship with the detective, Shinichi probably had not realised how much he had helped Kaito in return.

(He thought back to that night after the shooting, where Shinichi had all but declared that he would stand by him. His heart swelled at the thought. For once, he did not feel so lonely anymore.)

You could even say that it was a moment of weakness… far too reckless. Jii-chan would have skinned him alive and sold his soul to Akako. Many would say that he was being far too foolish to confide in a detective...

But it was okay. As much as Kaito was a phantom thief, he was human too. And Shinichi had not thrown that knowledge back at his face. Still did not. And for some reason, he was not worried about the other shoe dropping.

So far, he was a much better company than Kaito could have ever hoped for. Certainly much better than Hakuba-bastard.

It had been a couple of weeks since that night in the museum. The police found the mole who had tried to make the theft of the rock a clerical mistake. It was only because of Kaito’s tip that everything unraveled for him—a dirty cop who had gotten addicted to drugs and was trying to earn some money on the side to feed his addiction.

With such a scandalous affair in the spotlight, this syndicate finally came under the police’s radar in the way he had been trying to achieve for the years, and the case had been passed on to the PSB for them to track down and dismantle. A little more digging into their files confirmed their suspicion: this syndicate was much smaller and much less sophisticated than the Black Organisation.

Hopefully they would have an easier time eradicating them from the streets of Japan.

Too bad that Snake was still at large though. But, one step at a time. Baby steps.

He had came by the Agency to tell Shinichi the news after he failed to respond to his text messages—

—and was greeted by the lump of a figure on his bed. Mouri-san had let Kaito in, despite having never been introduced—a little too eager with worry as he ushered Kaito to Conan’s room. Kaito filed that little tidbit away—Mouri Kogoro was not as dull as rumuor had it, if he could have picked up on his friendship with his ward.

He had commented that Tantei-kun became like that when he hit rock bottom. There was no rhyme or reason to it. But on those days he would miss school, and nothing could get him out of it for the next few days.

Kaito could not say he could truly understand, in its totality, what Shinichi was feeling; nor could he say he knew what he had gone through. But from the little he had seen that night on the rooftop? That little bit, he had understood. And he had thought that it would enough—enough to help Shinichi out.

Shinichi looked almost comatose lying on his bed, and it unnerved him how much he looked eerily like a corpse: his eyes glazed, unmoving, as if seeing right through him, or not at all. Thankfully, that illusion was disrupted when the detective turned away from Kaito’s gaze after recognising who had entered the room. The lack of response, however, was downright worrying.

Looked like the news about the syndicate would have to wait.

_First, he needed to pull Shinichi out of the deep end._

“Scoot,” Kaito said as he planted himself on one side of the bed.

“Eh? What are you—” Shinichi exclaimed as turned again to face Kaito. Probably far too engrossed in his whirlpool of negative thoughts, he had been startled by the shift in the distribution of weight on the mattress.

“Scoot over, your bed isn’t big enough to hold the both of us if you don’t move.” Kaito was sure that it was the shock more than anything that made Conan oblige without resistance. Kaito settled himself on the bed, feeling the residual body heat as he adjusted the pillow and folded his arms across his stomach to spout out the first thing that came to mind.

“Do you remember Aoko? The inspector’s daughter and my best friend? I heard the worst news ever! That Ahouko decided to go on a date with Hakuba-bastard! How could she be so short-sighted...” and he prattled on, letting his voice filled the air with nonsensical chattering while hoping that it would help Shinichi in the way Aoko had helped him out when he had lost his father all those years ago.

Later, when he was halfway to getting a sore throat and chapped lips, he could feel Shinichi finally relaxing with the way the bed dipped just a slight touch and how he leaned into Kaito’s side, his eyes focused with attention. And more importantly, he started commenting in a soft, almost sleepy voice.

“How about…”

And that was when any lingering reservations he had on that decision melted away as he took in the comfort of Shinichi’s company as well.

_It was going to be okay._

_For the both of them._

_-o-_

“ _Kaito?”_

“ _Yes, Shinichi?”_

“ _Thank you.”_

_For being here. For helping me. For being my friend._

“ _No, Thank you.” The pleasure was all mine._

_-o-_

 

_Owari_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this installment! Stay tune for the next one! It would be a few months before I have it out, but hopefully it would not take too long!
> 
> Please leave a review and let me know what you think about the fic so far! Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> Please review and let me know what you think!


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